


swings & roundabouts

by danveresque



Series: all the lives we/never lived [4]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emmerdale Big Bang, Emmerdale Big Bang Round 3, M/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 32,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21638617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danveresque/pseuds/danveresque
Summary: “Life can be unfair, Robert. That’s just life though, innit?” Aaron said, matter-of-fact, a kind smile on his face. “But...sometimes it can be good too. It can give you things you weren’t even looking for.”
Relationships: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden
Series: all the lives we/never lived [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1515110
Comments: 52
Kudos: 166
Collections: Emmerdale Big Bang Round 3 2019





	swings & roundabouts

The floor was cold and hard.

Up close the fancy tiles no longer looked lavish or that attractive. When Robert had first seen this apartment, this very floor had been one of its selling points with its beautiful tiling _reeking_ of expense. When people talked about going places, _this_ was the place they were talking about, _this_ floor. At the time Robert hadn’t made his lust for those tiles too evident, what with his fiance and future father-in-law right up ahead, looking for a place at which they could throw a few million - god, Lawrence was up himself. Robert hadn’t imagined at the time that one day he would wake up on this same beautiful floor, bruised and partially broken, and that maybe carpeting, or better still, a nice thick rug, would have been great right about now.

“RJ!”

Robert blinked through a haze of booze and involuntary tears of pain, bringing into focus his faithful cleaner, a cheery buxom brunette called Jan. She fell to her knees, her hands hovering carefully over him, too scared to touch, her brow gathered up in a turret of worry as she looked at his shaking hand still gripping the keys to his car.

“Oh my god. Okay okay. I’m calling an ambulance. RJ. What happened?” she asked him, fumbling for her phone.

Robert closed his eyes, cold to his broken bones, muttering, “It’s been a rough couple of days.”

**~**

“Mr. Connolly.” The A&E doctor paused for effect, making it clear that he was being _ever_ so patient with Robert. “There are people you can talk to-”

Robert smiled thinly, past the pain of his scuffed face and the continual flares of pain shooting from his ribs. “I had a bit too much drink, I slipped. There’s no need to phone in the funny farm. Besides, if I was going to off myself it wouldn’t do it by throwing myself down a staircase.”

The doctor breathed in, making his nose whistle. “I understand you also had some sleeping pills-”

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping,” Robert said curtly. “Going through a divorce isn’t exactly the stuff of sweet dreams.”

The doctor looked down his hawk-like nose, clearly deciding that Robert was not worth this much effort on a Friday night. “Right. Well, like I said, we’ll keep an eye on that concussion for tonight and hopefully you can go home tomorrow.”

The doctor finished his visitation, looking put-upon by having to be patient with Robert. It was a relief when he was finally gone. There was however a figure lurking outside Robert’s hospital room, lingering at the edge of the window. Robert enjoyed the thirty seconds of reprieve before his visitor stepped inside, giving him a long silent look, followed by a disappointed sigh. _Great_ , Robert thought.

“Lawrence,” Robert said, trying to inject a little sturdiness into his voice, despite his body feeling about as robust as a wet paper bag.

Lawrence was shaking his head as he took in the bruises on Robert’s face, eyes flitting to the right leg which was propped up and partially encased in a cast around Robert’s broken ankle. The master of understatement, Lawrence nodded and commented on the sight with, “Quite a fall you’ve had.”

“They don’t call it a grand staircase for nothing,” Robert said blandly. “Come to gloat? See me get my comeuppance? Take a few pictures for Chrissie, why don’t you? Something to have a laugh at around the dinner table.”

Lawrence seemed troubled, as if Robert’s words had saddened him. Maybe the old man still carried a bit of a torch. Robert let his mouth curve into a smile of small satisfaction. He hoped it _did_ hurt Lawrence to see him like this.

“How could you think that?” Lawrence said tightly. “Chrissie’s beside herself. She thinks this is all her fault.”

Lawrence couldn’t look him in the eye, distress clear across his face. Robert stared at him, realising he was waiting for some absolution. Robert _could_ give it to him. He had a part to play in everything that had happened. It was a _part_ though and he’d received more than his fair share of punishment. He offered Lawrence an uninterested shrug and answered, “What do you think?”

“I will admit, things didn’t have to escalate-”

“Escalate,” Robert said with a laugh. “A marital dispute ending my career and turning my name into muck...that’s quite an escalation.”

Lawrence straightened up, as if he was physically squeezing his way out of an invisible suit of guilt. “You’re not entirely innocent yourself, Robert. I think it’s best to stop playing the blame game right here. I’ve spoken to Jan and she’s packing your things as we speak. I’ve booked you into a hotel for two weeks, all expenses paid. I hope it'll give you the time you need to find a new place. My solicitor will be in touch about a proposed settlement.”

Robert nodded, a tight smile on his face. “Not interested.”

Lawrence looked stunned. “You haven’t even seen the offer yet.”

“Don’t need to,” Robert said, swallowing down the tremor he felt tugging at his vocal chords. “It’s not enough. I rebuilt your business. Gave you a flagship restaurant. You owe me more than whatever it is you’re going to try and fob me off with.”

Lawrence looked stunned. No, not stunned. Appalled. He shouldn’t have since he’d told Robert enough times that Robert no longer had an ability to surprise him.

“You know, I was worried that the sight of you in this state might bring out the worst in me, make me happy,” Lawrence said, looking just a little disgusted. “Instead, I’m disappointed with myself at having felt sorry for you when I walked in here, because you don’t deserve an ounce of that sympathy. You’re a vile piece of work, you always have been.”

“Right,” Robert said. “Because I bet you’ve never done anything behind your wife’s back, have you? And if you did...I bet you got what was coming to you too.”

That had hit the mark well. So well that Robert felt just a little bad about it, because Lawrence looked devastated. But he recovered quick, smiling at Robert as he said, “I’ve taken the keys to the car from Jan. That was a wedding present from Chrissie. I doubt you’d want to keep something that reminds you of the spectacular failure of your marriage.”

Robert let out a laugh, the pain of it like a punch to the chest. “Well, I came in wearing a shirt she gave me as a present. Why don’t you take that too?”

Arching a brow at Robert, Lawrence offered him a practiced look of boredom and said, “Goodbye, Robert.”

Robert kept his smile in place until Lawrence was gone, clamping his mouth tight, letting his head drop back against the pillows as his hand fumbled to call for a nurse and take away some of the pain.

**~**

“ _Welcome back! You’re watching Morning Break with Peter and Hannah. Are you autumn ready? In a minute, some great looks without breaking the bank. First though, it’s September and some of our favourite winter telly is making a comeback. Excited,_ _Hannah_?”

“ _Definitely. All my faves. Can’t wait. But before we get to that, Carol is here with last night’s telly. Carol! You’re grinning.”_

_“Well, last night was the Too Many Cooks final. People didn't really know what to make of it, but it's kind of gained a small following, and last night the fans were tweeting up a storm as we all watched Team Jus Like That win the big prize. Curiously, despite the not bad ratings and fan following, no news about a second season. Does it have something to do with the RJ Connolly scandal? Maybe, who knows. Be a shame for the show to not come back though.”_

_“I'd like to see it back. Peter?”_

_“I don’t know. That RJ’s quite mean, isn’t he?”_

Robert pointed the remote control at the TV and stopped the idiots on the TV mid-laughter, flipping through the channels, eyes fixed on the screen, not really seeing anything at all. His two weeks in the plush hotel were almost up, his room filled with the stench of booze, uncleanliness, and despair. On the bedside table, his phone was ringing again. He ignored it, pressing the button on the remote like a robot that didn't know how to do anything else.

He stopped when the Yorkshire dales filled the screen. A man was standing in front of a tall gate, wearing a heavy green jacket over a knitted cream jumper, with jeans and wellies. He was wearing a flat cap on his head and was smiling proudly as he spoke about his farm and the challenges of running such a place in the modern day.

Robert's hand dropped down, remote held loosely as he watched the man on the screen. He seemed so familiar. Maybe it was the drink. Maybe the man on the screen wasn't even there. Maybe it was a trick of the heart. Robert swallowed down the thought and re-opened his bottle for another drink.

**~**

“It’s him,” someone whispered. “Seriously, I’m not joking. Look.”

Robert tensed. King's Cross was half an hour behind him and he had no choice but to sit in his seat and overhear the not discreet enough conversation. He shifted, stretching out his leg and sinking a little in his seat. His ribs still hurt, but at least every move didn't cause him complete agony anymore.

“That chef off the telly.”

In a way it was good that he was only _that chef off the telly_ and that his name had no real currency yet. How fortunate he was that before his celebrity had time to take off, it had come falling down a flight of stairs, smashing to pieces.

“The one off the show where that woman tipped her stew pot on the floor! Hashtag Cruel Connelly?”

Robert blinked, surprise clearing away the morning cobwebs caused by the drink from the night before. _Hashtag Cruel Connolly?_ Well, that wouldn’t have gotten tedious at all.

“Oh my god. You need to get off Twitter, Clare.”

 _Yeah Clare_ , Robert thought.

“Here, look at this,” Clare said. Blessed silence followed for a moment, and then an almost barely audible whisper. “...left him… with some guy apparently…”

Robert squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, feeling a familiar numbness spreading from inside out, until his face felt like a mask. He reached for his earphones, putting in one first, and then the other, drowning everything out.

**~**

When he stepped off the bus from Hotten, for a while all he could do was just blankly stare at the village stretched out before him. For a moment, it seemed to wobble and stretch out into infinity. A high-pitched conversation nearby snapped him out of his daze. He started to haul up his rucksack, when someone came running towards him, startling him with, “Whoa whoa. Here, let me give you a hand with that, mate.”

“It’s fine. I can manage,” Robert told him.

The guy gave him a grin making his thick beard look like it was pasted onto the face of a child. “Look, I get it, pride and all that. But seriously, you really want to break your other leg? Here. Where you headed?”

“Sugdens,” Robert said, quietly relieved at not having to deal with the balancing act of leaning on his crutches with the burden of the rucksack on his back. If they could have, his ribs would have wept and thanked him.

His good Samaritan was watching with an intensely curious gaze. He was peering at Robert, trying to place him. Robert eyed him carefully, waiting to hear the dreadful words _hashtag Cruel Connolly. “_ Oh my...mate, you’re Vic’s brother. Robert, yeah?”

Robert nodded, sighing inwardly. “Yeah.”

“I’m Adam. I uh...well, me and Vic...uh.”

Robert stared at Adam who had completely lost his train of thought and was now squinting somewhere past Robert’s shoulder.

Robert jerked his head, impatient and waiting. “What?”

Adam smiled, wide and tight-lipped before announcing, “Must have been a trip. You must be gasping for a brew. Let’s get you over there, yeah?”

Having made his astute observation Adam walked off, Robert’s giant rucksack slung over his shoulder. Robert shook his head in dismay and followed. It took some time, but he eventually caught up with Adam who was already knocking on the door of the small Sugden homestead. The door opened as Robert approached the gate and he just about caught Adam’s rushed little explanation before his sister barrelled out of the house past Adam and flung herself at Robert. He managed to somehow hold onto the crutches and Vic at the same time.

“Robert,” she said, the delight in her voice unmistakable.

Robert put his arms around her, smiling. “Still blonde then? I'll take it as a compliment.”

She pulled back, rolling her eyes at him. “Why didn’t you say you were coming? Adam and I could have come to the station.”

Robert opened his mouth to say something, glancing over at Adam. He settled on, “Wanted to surprise you. Surprise.”

Vic’s grin grew brighter and wider. “Well get inside then!”

They went in, Adam up ahead with Robert’s rucksack, all of them momentarily stuck in the narrow and short hallway. Vic and Adam shared a small and thankfully chaste kiss, before he told her, “I’ll see you later, babe.”

She beamed at him and then beamed some more when Adam nodded to Robert. Robert responded by holding out his hand. “Thanks, mate.”

Adam looked back at Vic and then at Robert, looking all too pleased before shaking Robert’s hand. “Ah, yeah, no worries, mate. Anytime, anytime.”

He squeezed past Robert and left, leaving behind a very happy and entirely too transparent Vic. She was grinning at Robert with evident expectation gleaming in her eyes. Robert shrugged at her. “He seems alright.”

If smiles could blind, this one would have. She nodded towards the living room. “Come on then.”

Even on crutches it took mere seconds to walk the length of the living room as he headed towards the even smaller kitchen. This whole house could have fit into the London apartment. Yet its smallness wasn’t as suffocating as he’d expected it might be. He’d wondered if the small doorways, the too tiny rooms would swallow him up the second he came back. But it didn’t happen because he was looking through the archway between the living room and kitchen, and something in his chest was unclenching, pushing tears into his eyes.

“Mum,” he said, losing composure on that one simple word.

She turned around from the sink, wide-eyed, her mouth opening in an ecstatic smile which seemed to fade only seconds later, her brow furrowing at the sight of him. Her gaze flitted up and down, taking in the crutches, staring at his face. Then, she didn’t walk so much as dart towards him, gathering him to herself somehow, despite her smaller stature. Robert’s crutches fell to the floor, his arms wrapping around her.

**~**

Sarah Sugden had never been able to sit still in one place for long. It was probably why in her early sixties, she still managed to look on the right side of sixty, her hair immaculately dyed a soft brown, still cut in the same way she had worn it for years. Her half-moon glasses were hooked to the neckline of her maroon woolly jumper and Robert could see bulging in the pocket of her jeans the shape of her little Nokia phone, which it seemed she was still refusing to get rid of.

While Robert sat at the kitchen table locked in a battle of wills with his barely touched cheese and pickle sandwich and cooling cup of tea, she was busying herself clearing up the kitchen and catching him up on anything and everything. Robert watched her, waiting for her to give up the charade of casual chit-chat.

“I suppose I should be pleased the bistro’s been doing so well, especially when people can just take a bus into Hotten. Plenty of nice restaurants there,” she said, with a shrug and shake of her head. “It’s just...I really don’t mind the slower pace.”

She stopped suddenly, placing a wooden spoon on the counter with far too much force and then stood there with her back to Robert. She turned around slowly and Robert felt like a kid again, knowing he’d done something stupid, wondering if that stupid thing was what he was about to be told off about.

“When I came down to see you in June, you said you were doing fine.” He could tell she was trying very hard to use her calm voice, the one farmers used to make sure they didn’t spook a pregnant cow or something. She gave him an awful fake smile.

Robert shrugged. “I was. I _am.”_

“Robert.” To describe her as exasperated would have been an understatement. For a long hanging moment, her mouth was just open and unmoving, her wide eyes fixed on him. Finally she said, “Look at you. You do not by any account look _fine_. Did… did someone do this to you?”

Robert pulled a face. “ _No_. I told you, it was an accident. Look, stop worrying. It looks worse than it is.”

She looked like she was going to argue, but then seemed to change her mind. That was another good tactic she used. She’d be nice exactly when someone else would have given him a clip 'round the ear, and then he’d just tell her everything. Only, he wasn’t a kid anymore, and not so easily tricked into emptying out the contents of his head and heart.

She came to Robert, heavily sinking down on a chair at the kitchen table. She took his hand in both of hers, giving him a kind look. “I thought you and I could talk to each other about anything, eh?”

Robert scowled, looking away from her. “My marriage is over. All the work I put into _Whites’_ means nothing, because the second Chrissie and I were done, Lawrence cut me out. One minute I was going to become a partner in the flagship restaurant, next minute I don’t even have a job. No marriage, no job, no apartment. That’s it really. Not much to talk about, is there?”

Sarah nodded. “Oh gosh, no. Nothing at all to talk about, is there?”

Robert gave her a sullen look, but she sat there patient, without judgement. It made something painful thaw in his chest, the realisation he’d royally messed up his life. He gave their hands a miserable look, shaking his head. “Can you imagine if Dad was here, what he’d think? He’d be so asha-”

“ _Robert_ , listen to me,” Sarah said, giving him a firm look, her voice as stern as it could ever get, and still somehow gentle. “Jack would have told you if you can work hard and make something of yourself once, you can do it again. He would have been proud of you-”

“For becoming a poncy chef? Doubt it,” Robert snorted.

“Don’t you dare be angry at him for things he’s not here to say to your face,” she said, still sounding reasonable somehow. She tilted her head at him, offering a little smile. “ _I’m_ proud of you. Does that not count for anything?”

Robert looked at her, stricken that she could ever think that. “Of course it does. You know it does.”

“Liar. It’s because I’m _just_ a woman, isn’t it?” She was pulling a face, winding him up. It worked. He couldn’t help but smile. She peered at him, her gaze full of warmth and comfort. “Sweetheart. You’re thirty years old and already found and lost more than a lot of people will have in an entire lifetime. Who’s to say you can’t do all those things again?”

“Thanks. I think,” Robert said.

“Don’t be a wally. You know what I mean. So you’ve lost all those things. But what about _Too Many Cooks_? You could be the next Graham Ramsey,” she said with a spark of mischief in her eyes.

“Okay, you know he’s not called, Graham,” Robert said, trying not to laugh. She smiled knowingly. “Anyway, my name is muck right now, thanks to Chrissie. I doubt the BBC are going to put a man branded as a love rat on a primetime show.”

“Oh don’t be silly. Television’s filled with love rats,” Sarah said.

“ _Mum_ ,” Robert said letting out an exasperated breath. He sighed and told her, “I know what you’re trying to do. Thanks. But...don’t. Everything’s messed up.”

“Part of life, isn’t it? Messing up.”

He blinked at her, trying to conjure up an image of his father next to her. What would he have said? It was hard to imagine. Sarah always filled in the gaps herself. Funny how it always seemed that his dad would have been in total agreement with her. Would Jack Sugden have wanted his son to become a chef? _He would have been happy for you, no matter what_ , was what Sarah had told him.

Would Jack Sugden have approved of Robert’s first boyfriend, a lad he met at college who dropped him off home one night, snogging him senseless outside his house just as his mum closed up the bistro? _He’d just want you to be happy,_ she'd told him. Robert clung to that answer, watered it and made it grow, sitting in its shade.

“If Jack was here, he’d tell you to take the time you need to lick your wounds, and then to get up off your bum and do something instead of feeling sorry for yourself,” Sarah said. “Lord knows I saw him sulking about something enough times before he decided to pull his finger out.”

Robert nodded, feeling a sudden pang of loss. It always happened like this. It hit him suddenly and he’d be left trying to stuff his grief back into the box where it belonged. He swallowed. “I miss them.”

“I know.” She nodded, giving his hand a squeeze. Then tentatively, looking at their joined hands instead of him, she said, “Maybe it’s time you went to see them.”

He scowled, shaking his head. “Mum...”

“Okay, it’s okay. When you’re ready. They’re not exactly going anywhere.” Robert blinked at her. She shrugged, pulling a face. “Sorry?”

Robert shook his head. “You’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” she said with a smile on her face. “Made you laugh though, sourpuss. Come here. Give your mum a hug. Look at you. Are you taller?”

“You saw me in June, Mum,” Robert said, before scowling and adding, “And I’m _thirty_.”

“Oh, that’s right, so you are,” she said, adding insult to injury by ruffling his hair.

**~**

_The Dales_ opened at 5pm sharp every day, which meant Sarah and Vic eventually had to stop fussing over him and leave the house to open up. He was happy for the space, what little there was. His old bedroom didn’t seem to have changed much. It still had his bookshelf and cupboard filled with things he’d never bothered to come back for. He’d come home for a few Christmases, birthdays, but after that it was Sarah and Victoria who visited Leeds, and then London, Emmerdale slowly becoming a fading memory.

Until now.

Robert looked around the room. There must have been coffins that were bigger than this room. Fed up of sitting in his bedroom staring at the television he'd not bothered to turn on, Robert finally got up and decided to go for a walk – or in his case, a slow hobble. It was dark out, the early September breeze carrying a promise of cold to come. Robert didn’t mind, there was always something clean and cleansing about the cold. But maybe the slow turning of the weather was the reason he didn’t see many people around. It was likely most of them were all propping the bar in the local pub. He could see it from where he’d come to a stop, The Woolpack.

The thing was, he hated Emmerdale, and yet a part of him was yearning for him to retrace his steps right back to the moment he had left the village. He wanted to see what had changed in those twelve years. Superficially, it seemed not much. The village still looked as it had done over a decade ago, if a little more spruced up and aspirational. He wondered if Jack Sugden would have approved of this Emmerdale. Probably not. That wasn’t a very Jack Sugden thing to do, Robert thought as he walked towards his destination. Though, when he reached it, he just stood looking, making no move to go closer. His legs seem to shake, and he was sure he felt a flare of burning pain up his back.

He turned around and headed home where he drank himself asleep.

**~**

He sulked indoors for most of the first two weeks back, until Victoria pointed out that sitting in his bedroom and watching people go about their business from the window was _not weird at all_. What she didn’t know was that the outside absolutely had it against him. One look at his phone showed how the tabloid press were still revelling in his downfall. If they found out he was hiding out in his mum’s house, god, they’d just wet themselves with glee.

“Why don’t you come down to the bistro?” his mum asked over the phone. “Be lovely having a top chef eating his dinner here.”

Robert rolled his eyes. As if anyone here would care. He didn’t go, opting to watch a Miss Marple rerun, Vic sitting next to him, looking all sparkly and pretty, waiting for Adam to turn up. He seemed like a bit of a gormless tit, more bubbly than brainy, but Vic seemed happy, and as Sarah had always told him and Vic, happiness was not a thing to be squandered. Even if the source of it was brainless himbos called Adam Barton.

It was around 9pm that Robert finally had enough of sitting around with himself for company. It was also the same time his phone started ringing again. He looked at the called ID, and decided that he could do without more bad news. Robert pulled on his bodywarmer, picked up his crutches and hobbled out of the house, just a _little_ unsteady under the mild buzz of a few cans...and the heavenly blanket of a little tipple of whiskey. Maybe alcohol would make the more unappealing parts of Emmerdale a little more digestible. It worked for food, why not everything else?

The breeze outside was blissfully cool on his face and the night sky was sparkling with stars, unlike city skies where the stars were hidden behind an unnatural glow. He couldn’t help but look up and admire the depth of the dark, and the shine of the stars. He followed them through the village, coming to a stop outside that one place he still couldn’t quite step into. He’d fooled himself that if he pretended, or didn’t look, he could just turn up accidentally. But his feet stopped of their own accord, and he fell into a stupor of numb staring, snapping out of it at the sound of a car door shutting too hard somewhere.

His mood having shifted towards maudlin, Robert took a healthy swig from the bottle kept in his pocket, before moving on, walking until he came to a worn away path that lead into the woods. He should have turned back. He was useless on his crutches walking on pavement, he’d probably end up breaking his neck on uneven ground. In opposition to that thought, a flare of anger went up inside him, mocking him for not being able to handle even the simplest things in life. _Soft lad_ is what blokes from around here would have called him.

Ten minutes into his angry walk Robert stopped with a huff and decided to lean against a tree, listening to the indistinct woodland sounds. He looked up at the September moon, bright and casting silvery light into the forest. Robert reached into his pocket and took out the bottle of whiskey, unscrewing the cap and downing it until there was just a little less than half remaining.

His phone was ringing again. Same caller ID. He shoved it back into his pocket and closed his eyes, feeling weighed down and just _done_. What was he going to do? Go back to London? Go back to work? Find a new flat that would only remind him of what he had lost? He opened his eyes, glaring into the forest. If his dad could see him now. God, he’d be fucking disappointed. But probably not surprised.

A loud ear-piercing howl shocked Robert out of his musings. Pushing away from the tree and getting his crutches back under him, Robert looked around. Last thing he needed was to get mauled by a village local (there was more of a chance that was a native of Emmerdale howling at the moon, rather than… whatever else made that sound). He started to make his unsteady way back to the village, easier said than done with the whole forest looking to tilt any second. Looked like he wasn’t the only one drinking tonight, he thought fuzzily.

There was a sound.

Something beating the floor of the forest, getting closer and closer. Robert turned in the direction of the sound _just_ as something came flying towards him, knocking him to the ground with the force of a sack of potatoes being thrown from a height. Only sacks of potatoes didn’t growl and drool. Robert used his forearms to keep the animal at bay, dazed and uncoordinated. After a while though, it just seemed easier to get eaten, his bones remembering in sharp detail the way he’d been attacked by his own stairs.

The animal was suddenly gone.

Robert groaned, lying curled up on his side. It took a while, but he managed to turn onto his back and prop himself up on his elbows, his ribs screaming in pain. Blurred vision showed him a dark figure standing where the animal had been. It was a man, pale-skinned with a scruffy beard. There was a bright glow in his eyes, like twin moons. Robert lethargically turned his head side-to-side to seek out the animal but it was nowhere in sight. There was just this silent man, watching him, inching closer until he was leaning over Robert. Robert blinked up into those twin moons, his hand coming up to grab the man by his jacket, to see if he was real.

The stranger lurched forward and a howl filled Robert’s ears, followed by a growl, everything turning black.

**~**

Robert was having that nightmare again. The one where everything around him was going up in flames and he was trapped in the middle, hands uselessly pulling at fallen bodies. He wasn’t strong enough. Even in his dreams he wasn’t strong enough. All he could do was scream and shout. The outcome was always the same.

“Robert?” He scrambled away from the gentle touch to his shoulder, his body rigid, eyes staring at his mum’s outstretched hand. She had a watery look in her eyes, which made the smile she was trying to hold on to look out of place and sad. “You were having a bad dream.”

Robert sat up, his hand going up to squeeze the throb out of his forehead. “What time is it?”

“Ten,” she told him. Robert pulled a face. Time was he’d have had a million things done by ten. Of course, getting out of bed at all seemed like a success at the moment. His mother picked up his almost empty bottle and held it up in front of his face. “A little hungover are we?”

“Mum...just give me a break, okay?” he said tiredly.

The look on her face indicated that the number of breaks allowed were beginning to dwindle. She nodded in his direction and said, “Look at the state of you. What did you get up to last night? There’s mud on the stairs, your clothes look like you’ve been wrestling in a ditch. Honestly.”

Robert _did_ look at the state of himself. His broken ankle was propped up on a pillow, the cast dirty, just like his jeans and the bodywarmer that was lying at the foot of the bed. The palms of his hands looked dirty too. That was when the night before slammed into the forefront of his memory like...a big drooling sack of potatoes. He’d been attacked by something or someone.

“I was out in the woods...I saw something…” His mother gave him a strange look. “How did I get home last night?”

She looked a little concerned as she said, “You were in bed when I got home.”

Robert scowled at the dirty palms of his hands. He’d been attacked hadn’t he? It felt like an animal. But...he’d seen a man. Pale and ghost-like, reaching for him. _Proper_ fit.

“Are you alright, love?” his mum asked, touching his shoulder. He frowned at her, chewing on his lip in thought. “Robert?”

He shook his head. “It’s nothing. I clearly had too much to drink. It’s just...it felt so real.”

“What did?” his mum asked.

He frowned, thinking back. “I was in the woods. This animal came out of nowhere and then just like that it was gone and instead there was this bloke. It’s like...like-”

Sarah was scowling at him. “Are you trying to be funny?”

“What? No. Why?” Robert asked. She was still watching him the way she used to when he was thirteen and lying about some shit or other. “ _Mum_.”

She gave him a skeptical look, pointing at him before getting up to leave the room. When she came back it was with a newspaper in hand. She unfolded it, turning the pages until she found a slim column, which she held out for Robert to read, the headline informing him, _Second Farmer Confirms “Werewolf” Sighting_.

“Right then,” she said, not hiding her annoyance even an iota. “I think it’s about time you gave the drinking a bit of a rest. Don’t you?”

**~**

“I’m just saying, Rob, sometimes things happen for a reason. If all that stuff hadn’t happened in London, would you have come back here? I doubt it,” Vic said, far too animated to be sitting in front of a bloke with a hangover.

“You’re right. Everything _does_ happen for a reason,” Robert said. He was sat in the cafe with Vic, watching the locals go in and out, each one the deliverer of some nugget of gossip to pass on to the owners of the establishment. “I need to get my act together and get back to civilization. The sooner the better.”

“Oh, thanks a lot,” Vic said with an offended look.

“Seriously. Werewolf sightings,” Robert said, letting out a laugh. Vic gave him a soft smile. “What?”

She shrugged. “Nothing. Just...it’s the first time you’ve actually looked happy since coming back.”

Robert looked away her, eyeing his coffee cup. “Happy and laughing at my sad situation are two very different things.”

“Okay. It’s nice to see you laugh about _something_.” Robert smiled, though it felt a little tight on his face. “So. What did happen last night?”

“I told you. I got knocked out by some _dumb_ animal, and then I woke up in my bed this morning,” he said with a shrug. Vic narrowed her eyes. He sighed, nodding. “Okay, I...I think I saw some bloke out there. One second I was being mauled, _definitely_ by some animal, and the next second this bloke was standing over me.”

“What did he look like?” Vic asked.

Robert was quiet for a moment as he thought about it. He nodded and told her, “Fit.”

“Robert!” Vic said, a delighted look on her face.

Robert shrugged. “What? He was. I mean, if that’s the local werewolf, might go for another little walk later.”

Vic leaned forward, smacking his hand. “I can’t believe you.”

Robert took a gulp of his coffee, grinning.

**~**

Robert spent the rest of the day holed up in his bedroom. It was surprising how quickly one became accustomed to being in one’s childhood bedroom, stretched out on a small bed that had little respect for adult size. Part of the afternoon was devoted to catching up on all the news regarding disgraced chef RJ Connelly.

Update? He was still a disgrace.

When the subject of his downfall became boring and the itch for a drink surfaced, somehow Robert’s mind turned to an entirely different subject.

The fit werewolf.

Not that he _was_ a werewolf, of course he wasn’t. Maybe a fit ghost. God, what a waste that would be.

Robert let his head drop back on his pillow as he scowled at the ceiling, trying to jog his memory from the night before. Werewolves and ghosts aside, there was still the question of how he got back home hammered as he clearly was. He closed his eyes. Tried to remember. Had he seen what had knocked him to the ground? No, it had been too dark. But it had been warm, hard-bodied. But not large.

Why did that guy keep flashing up in front of his eyes? Robert had remembered him wrong, that’s what it was. He had been drunk, and he’d conjured up that scruffy face, that moonlit skin, and preternaturally blue eyes. He felt like he’d seen those eyes up close, blinked into them. He’d leaned in close, the fit werewolf guy. His hand had touched Robert, tapped his cheek. Had he spoken? Robert thought he remembered a voice. A harsh whisper. A blood-curdling howl.

Robert’s eyes snapped open, a gasp escaping his mouth before he let out a laugh at his own expense. He snorted. “Werewolf.”

**~**

Because he wasn’t some epic moron, he was _not_ going back to the forest out of sheer curiosity or in the hope of bumping into fit werewolves or ghosts. With his luck he was more likely to run into doggers or something. No, he was finally getting his backside down to the little bistro his mother had been running for the last ten years. If it happened to be on the way to a certain forest, then that was an absolute coincidence. It was a small village after all.

“Sweetheart, you came,” his mum said as soon as she spotted him. It was a tiny place really, but it was warm and welcoming, just like Sarah Sugden herself. The little tables had red and white checkered tablecloths with tealights in small jars. The lighting was low and soft, and the murmur of quiet conversation felt filled with contentment. Robert couldn’t help but smile.

“Of course I did,” he said. “Had enough of moping around.”

“Of course you did,” she said, happy. “Come on, sit yourself down. You can give me your opinion on some of our best dishes.”

“Yeah, like I’d dare,” Robert said with a grin.

The evening progressed with his mother stuffing him full of food, Vic appearing every now and then, chef in training, to poke Robert about everything not food related. Sarah introduced him to plenty of locals who came and went throughout the evening. They all greeted him warmly, before the memory of local knowledge caught up with them, and their eyes took on that sad look of sympathy reserved for orphan children.

As the night went on, Robert’s mind wandered across Emmerdale and all the places he’d been since leaving, and then all the way back. He looked out of the window at the quiet village street, just a few locals probably on the way to or back from the pub, enjoying the cool dry night, the cloudless sky, and the bright full moon… Robert stared at it for a while, the way it hung there like a beacon, calling to him. He swallowed as _that_ face popped into his mind again. He couldn’t help but sigh. If it wasn’t one obsession with him, it had to be another.

“Sweetheart?” Robert looked away from the window, smiling at his mum. “Your phone was ringing. Again.”

Robert picked up his phone and checked the screen. Seeing the caller ID, he pocketed the phone, telling Sarah, “It’s nothing important.”

“You sure? Someone definitely seems keen,” she said, fishing for information.

“Um, you know, I’m a bit tired. I might head off. That alright?” Robert started to get up.

“Of course it is,” she told him. “Here, let me get you some dessert.”

Robert stood up, blowing out a breath and patting his stomach. “I don’t think I could. Not until I walk dinner off.”

“Alright then,” she said, before pulling him close for a kiss. “Come here.”

Robert gave her a kiss and hug before grabbing his crutches and making his way down the street, away from the bistro, and in the total opposite direction of home.

**~**

He hadn’t had a drink all day. His mind was clear. Clear enough to distinguish between the figments of his own imagination and supposed ghosts or werewolves or whatever inbred monster that escaped into the forest from the village. He took the same worn out path that lead into the woods, carefully moving on his crutches, taking a breather about ten minutes later, around about the same time he had realised what a stupid idea this was.

“Oi!” Robert turned towards shout. “Stop!”

“Okay, well, this was dumb,” Robert muttered, decision made to leave immediately. “Nice one, Robert, you idiot.”

“Come back!”

That had come from close by. Robert hurried along as fast as he could, ignoring how steep the path was and ignoring how his feet were being urged to go faster down the path despite one ankle being absolutely useless. So when the collision happened, it really wasn’t such a big surprise. Something big came rushing out of a thicket of bushes, jumping into the air knocking into Robert. He fell against a tree, and something fell against him.

When he had recovered his equilibrium somewhat, he registered a body firmly pressed up against him, hands curled in the front of his jacket. The man holding him up against the tree had his head turned away, and he seemed oblivious to the fact that he was using Robert as a scratching post, his fingers curling and closing in the material of Robert's jacket.

Robert scowled down at him. “D'you mind?”

The guy pulled away from him, leaving Robert scrabbling for balance, his crutches on the ground. He was scowling at Robert, the moonlight illuminating the morphing of expressions from annoyed, surprised, and then something a little softer, making his eyes wide enough to create twin moons again.

“It’s you,” he said.

Robert nodded, looking him up and down, quietly muttering. “Definitely not a werewolf then.”

The idiot in front of Robert who had almost cracked his ribs a second time darted forward, picking up the fallen crutches. “You alright?”

Robert pushed away from the tree, his legs feeling a little watery, his ribs flaring up again. “Not really, no.”

“Here, let me give you a hand back to the village then.”

The guy didn’t wait for a response, keeping the crutches to himself and slipping under Robert’s arm, his own arm snaking around Robert’s waist. Robert opened his mouth to say something, but then they were walking and up close his little werewolf was even fitter.

“Ow! Okay! Careful,” Robert snapped, his foot slipping on mud or god only knew what.

“Sorry sorry, I’ll slow down, yeah?”

Robert glanced down at the guy shuffling along with him, being way too patient about the whole thing. “So? Do I get an explanation?”

“About what?” came the shifty answer.

“About what you were chasing back there and what it has to do with the newspaper stories about werewolf sightings,” Robert said.

Robert’s werewolf stopped in his tracks and looked at him, still looking far too ethereal. He had a stupid grin on his face. “Did you think I was a werewolf?”

Robert was quiet for a moment, before replying, “Don’t be daft. Of course not.”

“Oh my god. You did.” The werewolf, now downgraded to _dick_ , spluttered out a laugh that bordered on a giggle. Somehow Robert controlled himself, schooling his expression into something a bit sheepish. “Sorry. That is quite funny though.”

“Idiot,” Robert said. The idiot in question snorted out another laugh, before retaking his place as Robert’s crutch.

“My dog,” the idiot said. “He likes to get out for the night and be a total nuisance. There’s farms around here where all sorts is always happening. People just add two and two and end up making twenty-two. Doesn’t explain what you were doing here though.”

“Clearing my head,” Robert said.

“Not last night you weren’t. You were smashed when I found you. Saying all sorts. You asked me if I was real.” God he sounded amused by that. “Then you told me I was well fit, before passing out.”

“Shut up,” Robert said with a scowl. “I didn’t.”

“Mate, I swear.” That silly laugh again, young and stupid. A little infectious maybe. Robert shook his head, smiling. “What are you doing walking around that drunk anyway?”

“Seriously, being mauled by an actual werewolf would be better than this. Can you shut up and concentrate on walking?” Robert said, without an ounce of heat though, still smiling. “You took me home last night then?”

“Wasn’t going to leave you here was I?”

“Thanks,” Robert said. “It was nice how you put me to bed but didn’t leave a note or anything to let me know what had happened.”

Another laugh. “Sorry.”

“You’re not,” Robert said. But it was okay, wasn’t it? He’d been distracted, and for a second he’d felt like his chaotic life had loosened its grip on his throat, allowing him to breathe. “You got a name then?”

“Aaron. Aaron Livesy,” came the reply with a small smile.

Robert nodded at him, smiling back. “Robert Sugden.”

“I know the Sugdens,” Aaron said with a nod.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Your Vic is going out with my best mate,” Aaron said. “And everyone knows Sarah. She’s brilliant she is.”

Robert smiled at that, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, she is.”

“Showed us some embarrassing pictures of you as a kid once,” Aaron said.

“No she didn’t,” Robert said.

“But you admit there _are_ embarrassing pictures, yeah?” Aaron said. Robert laughed it off.

It took a while, but finally home came into sight. Robert fished out his keys, letting Aaron open the door for him. He nodded towards the stairs inside. “Need any help?”

“Nah. I’ll be alright,” Robert said. “Thanks for bringing me home though. Hope you find that dog.”

“Yeah, he’ll be back by morning, after he’s ripped up someone’s washing and pulled up someone’s flowers. I’ll let you rest, yeah?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Robert gave Aaron a nod, watching him make his way back to the gate. He stopped though, a little mischievous smile on his face. Robert grinned and waited.

“Fit for a ghost,” Aaron said.

“You what?” Robert asked, unable to hold back the smile curling into his lips.

“Last night. ‘You’re pretty fit for a ghost’ is what you said last night.” Aaron was grinning. “You said, ‘you’re pretty fit for a ghost, which seems about right because real blokes are rubbish.’”

“Well, I was drunk. Not to mention probably a little concussed,” Robert said. Going for a recovery, he smiled and added, “Because I meant werewolf.”

“Right.” Aaron nodded, eyes glinting with moonlight. “Does that mean if I ask you out for a drink lunchtime tomorrow, I’ve got no chance?”

“I dunno,” Robert said with a sigh and grimace, pretending to think over the invite. “I suppose one drink can’t do any harm. I'll even let ya pay for my drink.”

“Big of ya.” Aaron grinned. “I’ll come by at lunch then, shall I?”

“I’ll be here,” Robert said, watching Aaron close the gate and gently drop the latch, a pleased smile on his face.

“See ya then,” he called back, turning away as he shoved his hands into his pockets, sauntering off the way they’d come as Robert watched with a pleased smile of his own.

**~**

Robert woke up feeling hot and irritated next morning, his heart racing. He grimaced at the remnants of the same nightmare. Sitting up, he letting out a quiet groan, the skin up the left side of his back feeling tight and painful. Leaning against the pillows felt a little better, so he stayed there, picking up the remote from the bedside table and turning on the telly, spending the next ten minutes just channel surfing. Until he wasn’t anymore, because his mind had drifted due to the bark of a dog somewhere out on the street.

His mouth curved into a smile as Aaron wandered uninvited into his mind. There was something about him. Something that had lit a fire in Robert’s belly before he even had time to register it. Aaron had been on his mind when he fell asleep, Robert filled with the sweet regret of not getting at least one kiss from his werewolf. He’d fallen asleep with the fading sensation of Aaron’s arm around his waist, holding him up, bringing him home. Even Chrissie hadn’t made him feel this kind of bubbling of want, and he _had_ wanted her once.

Robert rolled out of bed, aimlessly floating towards the window. Was everyone really as content as they looked out there, carrying on with their little lives, their pub lunches, and village walks? It’s what city people thought they wanted. Getting away from the noise, and the crowd. Quietude. More to the point, was this something he could ever want? He’d spent a long time getting out of the slow lane, wanting to reach the highest pinnacles in the shortest amount of time. What he hadn’t realised was that falling from those pinnacles also took very little time.

He turned and looked at his small bedroom. It belonged to someone who was barely a man when he left the village, convinced that he could only live free if he went as far away from here as possible. But ultimately, he had come back here willingly, knowing it was the only place that would have him back once he’d fallen from his pedestal.

**~**

Aaron arrived at noon, announcing his presence with a musical knock on the door. It made Robert shake his head as he made his way to answer it, Sarah sitting on the sofa, busy on the phone, eyeing him as he walked past. He opened the door, a quip ready on his lips, but rolling back into his mouth when he set eyes on the bloke _way_ too fit to be a werewolf.

Aaron was standing there, mouth slightly parted as if he was about to speak but had lost his train of thought. He was dressed in a simple black top and black jeans, under a black zip up jacket. His hair was parted to one side; cute, Robert’s brain supplied, if a little over gelled. He’s beard seemed neater, a little closer to the skin, which in the light of day was pinker than pale. Aaron’s eyes though, they were so... _blue,_ like someone had fired up his eyes with a fucking blowtorch. Mesmerising.

“You alright?” Aaron asked, kicking at the stone tile under his feet. His gaze dropped to Robert’s feet, before climbing up quick.

Robert smiled, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. You?”

Aaron gave him a nod. “Hungry?”

“Starving,” Robert said, giving him the once-over again. Aaron’s forehead dented a little before he lifted his chin in a nod of sorts, before angling his head in the direction of the pub. Robert, unable to stop himself, grinned. “I’ll get my jacket.”

Robert hobbled back into the house whilst Aaron loitered on the doorstep. His mum was still on the phone, but her eyes were tracking him as he picked up his jacket and slipped it on before grabbing his crutches. He could see her losing the thread of her conversation as she watched him mouthing ‘where are you going?’, head turning as he walked out. He was laughing as he stepped outside.

“What’s so funny?” Aaron asked.

“My mum,” Robert said. “Was on the phone so she couldn’t be nosy.”

“Not as bad as my mum,” Aaron said with a snort. He shook his head, clearly recalling something. “So embarrassing.”

“Sounds like you’ve got a few stories,” Robert said, grinning.

“Yeah. Stories that are locked in a box at the back of me brain, where no one can ever get at them.”

“Do you think she might tell me if I ask her nicely?” Robert asked, pretending to think deeply about it.

“I will break your other leg, mate, I swear,” Aaron said.

Robert laughed, enjoying the way the tips of Aaron’s ears had turned pink, the colour slowly making its way into his cheeks. “Find that dog then?”

Aaron nodded. “Came back this morning. Had someone’s bra stuck around his neck.”

“Shut up,” Robert said with a laugh.

“I’m serious. Bright pink,” Aaron said, practically glowing with mirth. “What am I supposed to do now? Track down whose it is and give it back? Get a slap.”

“Oh no, those things are pricey. You’ll probably a get thank you out of it,” Robert said. “Trust me.”

“Know a lot about bras do ya?” Aaron said with an amused laugh.

Robert shrugged. “Part of the bisexual contract.”

Aaron grinned, nodding. Robert watched him for any other reaction, but none came. Or at least, none of the kind Robert had endured before. No _pick a side_ , no _you’re just greedy_ , and certainly nothing about him needing to make up his mind.

“You know what else he brought once?” Aaron asked, lightly elbowing Robert.

“What?”

“A boot.”

“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Robert said.

“Had a decaying foot in it,” Aaron said with a nod, pulling a disgusted face.

Robert matched his expression with a quiet, “Ughh.”

**~**

The Woolpack.

Robert couldn’t remember if it looked exactly the same as the last time he saw it or a completely different kind of same that never really changed in country pubs. People glanced up at him with that half-bored interest reserved for strangers. Though he spotted a few furrowed brows that seemed to be trying to place him, perhaps recall him from either long ago, or on a TV show soon to be cancelled. Robert paid them no mind, following Aaron into a nice secluded corner.

Aaron helped Robert into a booth, taking his crutches and putting them aside before disappearing to the bar. Robert watched him leaning over it and talking to the barmaid like he owned the place. Though, come to think of it, she was beaming at him, reaching out to actually pinch his cheek. Then as he was frowning at her, in one moment she went from a stranger to familiar. Chas Dingle his mind supplied.

“You’re a Dingle,” Robert said with a frown as Aaron sat down opposite, dropping two menus between them.

“No, I’m a Livesy,” Aaron said firmly. “Me mum is a Dingle. Only because she didn’t want to be Chas Kirk because she said it sounds like a cat coughing up a hairball. At least, that’s what she told my stepdad.”

“Right.” Robert nodded with a frown, a vague memory emerging of a sad little black-haired boy who hadn’t really been on Robert’s radar when he and his mum had moved into the village.

“What? You’re looking at me like I’ve got two heads,” Aaron said, simultaneously grinning and frowning.

“Uh, nothing,” Robert said. “So your mum works here then. Does that mean we get a discount?”

“She owns half the place,” Aaron said. “Means we pay extra.”

Robert looked back at the bar where Aaron’s mum was peering at him now with intense suspicion. Another woman came out to the bar, blue-eyed with long blonde hair, another Dingle: Charity. She was soon enough grabbed by Aaron’s mum, and they were both now staring at him.

“They both okay?” Robert asked with an amused smile. Aaron looked in their direction, his lip curling up a little. “Probably think we’re on a date.”

Aaron seemed to immediately forget the two women, looking at Robert. Shrugging, he said, “Can be.”

Robert smiled, dipping his gaze to the menus, slowly pulling one towards himself. When he looked up Aaron was watching him with a pleased smile.

“Hiya. Hello,” Aaron’s mum sidled up to their table, Charity Dingle in tow, practically leering over Chas’s shoulder.

“Chas,” Robert said with a nod. “Good to see you again.”

Her eyes narrowed before she pointed and said. “It is you. It’s Robert flaming Sugden. I said to your mum, I did, is that your lad on the telly? I have to give it to her, she’s got a heck of a poker face.”

“Mum. What are you doing?” Aaron asked, looking just a little embarrassed.

“That’s RJ Connelly,“ Charity supplied. “You can change your name sunshine, but twelve years doesn’t make _that_ much of a difference.”

“He’s filled out a bit, hasn’t he?” Chas said to Charity, Aaron looking absolutely mortified.

“Taller than I remember too,” Charity said, narrowing her eyes.

Aaron covered his face, shaking his head before looking at them red-cheeked. “What you both on about?”

“Do you watch anything other than David Attenborough and programmes about cars?” Chas asked Aaron. “He’s on that BBC show, _Too Many Cooks_. The one where that woman got so angry she threw her stew pot on the floor and a handful of dry spaghetti at her team.”

“Oh yeah, I recorded that one. _Never_ to delete,” Charity said, eyes bright and wide with glee as she pointed from Aaron to Robert.

Aaron stared at them, looking absolutely confused. Robert bit down on his lip, stifling a laugh. “Um, look, as nice as it is catching up, we’re kind of on a date here. Or at least trying to be.”

Charity’s mouth fell open wide, whilst it was Chas’s eyes that did the same. Her mouth flapped a bit before she said, “Well… why don’t you boys have a look at the menu, and I’ll be back in five minutes to take your order. Robert. Or should I say RJ?”

“Robert’s fine,” he answered swiftly.

Both women left, not before pulling and prodding at each other amidst loud whispers. Aaron was fidgeting, looking at his menu with a scowl. After a moment, he looked up and shrugged. “Sorry, didn’t know you were famous. Should have taken you somewhere posh, eh?”

Robert smiled, shaking his head. “I like it here. Well...I like company.”

Aaron’s eyes widened just a fraction, before he smiled, soft. “So...the J Connelly.”

“Robert _Jacob_. Connolly’s Mum’s maiden name. Sugden was a bit of a hard sell in London,” Robert said. “And...I suppose I needed a complete break from here. So, RJ Connolly was born.”

Aaron shook his head. “Can’t believe I’ve not seen you on the telly. I’d remember if I did though.”

“Yeah?” Robert asked with a little jerk of his head.

Aaron mirrored the gesture. “Look at ya. You’re fit. ‘Course I would.”

Robert let out a quiet laugh. “Well, the TV thing’s a recent development which might not go anywhere. You’re not missing much.”

“Well, I’ve got you right here, haven’t I?” Aaron said with a grin. Robert grinned back. “Go on then. Decide on what you want. Our Marlon’s gonna have a fit when he realises there’s a telly chef eating his food.”

**~**

Marlon didn’t quite have a fit, but he did gawp like a goldfish and cause at least one accident before getting to Aaron and Robert’s table. Robert took it in his stride. London had been hard between the paps and his life going down the drain. A hell of a lot worse than a few curious gazes in a country pub. He and Aaron made small talk, sneaking glances at each other, laughing at things that weren’t particularly funny. It felt easy like breathing. Or maybe it was the breathing that felt easy around Aaron.

 _Obsession_ , he reminded himself, _is something you’re too good at._ Aaron could just be that. Something to obsess about in order to avoid everything else _,_ Robert thought as he watched Aaron at the bar, shaking his head and looking mortified by something Charity had said. He’d gone red in the face, and Chas had given Charity a little smack on the arm for her trouble. Looked like Aaron was an easy one to rile up. He came back to the table sulking.

“Alright?” Robert asked with a grin.

Aaron rolled his eyes as he sat down. “Those two are doing my head in.”

“Well, lunch is almost over anyway,” Robert said. “You probably need to get back to work.”

“Got the afternoon off,” Aaron said with a shrug.

“From?” Robert asked.

“The local vet’s,” Aaron said. “I’m doing an internship there. Helps that it’s my step-dad’s practice. He kind of owes me though, for all the child labour he’s gotten out of me when I was a kid.”

“You’re a vet?”

“Will be. Hopefully.” Another ‘no big deal’ shrug.

Robert felt like smiling again, and had to bite it back. They both sat in strange sweet silence for a moment. There was nothing awkward about it. It was just...nice. Robert broke it by asking, “You want to come back to mine? Could watch a movie if you like. Or is that more of a second date thing?”

Aaron’s brow furrowed in thought. “Actually, there is something I’d like you to show me.”

**~**

_“Yeah, sorry guys. I’d rather chew on my own socks if I’m totally honest. Three points from me.”_

Aaron’s head turned from the telly to Robert, mouth open in shock. Robert laughed. “What?”

Aaron paused the YouTube video playing on the telly, leaving Robert frozen, grimacing at a devastated contestant. “You don’t think that’s a bit harsh? You compared their main dish to socks.”

“No. What I said was socks would be better.” Robert adjusted his ankle which was propped up on a cushion on the coffee table. Sighing at the momentary relief, he said, “It’s what the producers want. Apparently being mean scored well or something.”

“Scored well? What, people _like_ you?” Aaron asked, a deep scowl etched across his brow.

Robert let out a surprised laugh. “Thanks mate.”

“You know what I mean,” Aaron said with a grin.

Robert shrugged. “Dunno, not sure I do. You saying you _don’t_ like me?”

Aaron looked back at the TV, grinning where he sat lounging next to Robert on the sofa. “You’re not judging me for my cooking though, are ya?”

“Evasive answer.” Robert gave Aaron an approving nod. “I like it.”

Aaron snorted, restarting the video, Robert watched Aaron and the soft shifting of expressions on his face. Not to be too egocentric, it was an interesting watch every time Robert was on screen. Robert couldn’t read the response precisely, but Aaron would still, become completely attentive, mouth open in the smallest of smiles. It was with regret that Robert looked away on hearing the front door open. A moment later, Sarah appeared loaded with shopping bags.

“Aaron,” Sarah said, the surprise in her voice evident. “Hello, love.”

“You alright?” Aaron said, slowly moving from his sprawl to sit up. He had the look of a guilty teenager about him, which thrilled Robert to no end. “So. How come you never told me your Robert was on telly?”

“You’d have to ask him,” Sarah said, glancing at Robert. “I was only abiding by the rules of the embargo set by RJ Connolly here.”

“I didn’t want people pestering you because of me. So sue me,” Robert told her with a shrug.

His mum smiled, indulgent as ever. “I’m going to put the shopping away. You two want a cuppa?”

“I’m alright thanks,” Robert said. Aaron nodded and said, “Yeah. Me too. Thanks.”

Sarah gave them both a little look, one that now reminded Robert of being a teen under watch. And then she was leaving, or more like sliding out of the room, her eyes on both of them the whole time. Robert looked at Aaron, pointing to his own ear and miming, _she’s totally listening._ Aaron fell against him with a quiet laugh, Robert leaning into him at the same time, grinning. Sarah appeared in the doorway her mouth opening to say something, but stopping when she saw them both pull apart, looking up at her with mouths clamped shut against laughter.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Oh, _do_ grow up.”

Robert couldn’t help the cackle that escaped him, as he fell back against the sofa. When he looked across at Aaron he was sat there with a smile that didn’t just reach eyes, but seemed to make them glow.

“The whole thing’s on iPlayer if you want to watch it,” Robert said quietly, nodding towards the TV. “Unless you have somewhere to be.”

The corner of Aaron’s mouth lifted in a smile and he moved back on the sofa, bringing their shoulders into contact as they sat side by side. A few minutes later Aaron was focused on the TV and Robert glanced past him at the doorway to the kitchen where Sarah stood watching both of them, a little smile on her face.

**~**

Robert awoke with a start, going from asleep to awake so quick it left his head spinning, and a shiver running right through him. It took a moment for him to register the hand stroking his arm gently. When the world came into focus properly, he realised he was partially lying on the sofa and Aaron was perched on the edge of the coffee table, giving him a concerned look.

“What happened?” Robert asked quietly, disconcerted.

“You fell asleep,” Aaron said. “Your mum said not to wake ya. Said you’ve had trouble sleeping.”

Robert sat up slowly, Aaron moving to hold onto one of his arms, helping to gently upright him, before sitting back on the coffee table. Robert rubbed a hand across his eyes and looked at his watch. It was gone five, which meant he’d slept for at least two hours.

“You didn’t have to stay,” he said.

Aaron shrugged, quietly telling him. “It’s alright. Watched all the episodes on iPlayer while you were asleep.”

Robert was surprised, smiling. “Did you? Figure out why people like me then, even though-?”

Aaron leaned forward, swift and sudden, pressing his lips to Robert’s. Robert’s mouth stuttered to a surprised stop, until his brain caught up. He leaned forward, tilting his head just enough for the press of lips to become like the sliding of a catch and lever locking into place. He felt the shudder that ran through Aaron’s chest, reaching up to cup his face, draw him closer, parting his lips for Aaron’s tongue to curl into his mouth, tasting like beer and salt.

When Aaron pulled back, he had a small pleased smile held between his slightly parted lips, an invitation as evident as the darkening of his eyes. Robert smiled back at him, whispering, “Do you want to go upstairs?”

**~**

The answer was an absolute yes, and Robert had never moved so fast on his crutches before. He’d never moved so fast _without_. They were on each other the moment the door closed, Robert holding onto Aaron instead, taking his time to taste and caress with every kiss and touch. It was Aaron who was thoughtful enough to pull off Robert’s loose sweater, smart enough to kiss him and roll off his t-shirt, fingers swiftly moving to the waistband of his trackies.

They stumbled their way back onto the bed, which though not entirely a single bed, was still too small for two grown men. Robert landed on his back and Aaron made himself comfortable straddling Robert’s thighs after efficiently removing the trackies, careful around the cast, smoothing his hands up from his stomach to his chest. Robert reached out towards the hem of Aaron’s top, pulling at it with a smile. Aaron’s eyes locked on him, a smile curving on his face before he pulled off the top in one swift move, revealing a smooth expanse of skin and muscle.

Robert sat up, his arms encircling Aaron’s waist, his mouth latching onto the warm skin of Aaron’s shoulder, tasting and kissing, Aaron’s body shuddering against Robert’s, hips rolling against him. Robert closed his eyes, breathing hot against Aaron’s skin. He was as hard and insistent in his boxers as Aaron was against him. Aaron pulled back, catching Robert’s mouth with his again, his hands coming up to hold Robert’s face, before sliding down to his neck and then his shoulders. Aaron rocked syrup slow against Robert, pressing another kiss to his mouth, moving on from chaste exploration to searing hot.

Aaron’s hands smoothed over the curve of Robert’s shoulders and Robert pulled back with a quiet intake of breath, freezing, mouth opening to say _stop_ , but far too cowardly to go ahead with it. He blinked, mind working furiously to say something that would excuse how foolish he looked right now, numbness crawling from his fingers to his elbows as his hands rested at Aaron’s hips, unmoving. Aaron pulled back, frowning at him with curiosity.

“You alright?” His question was so careful, asked so softly. It left Robert feeling a little adrift for a moment. Aaron’s hand was on his face, thumb stroking his cheek. “Do you...do you want to stop?”

Robert let out a huff of quiet laughter, shaking his head. “No. God no. Sorry. Just...my foot. Can we just-?”

Robert tilted his head to the side and Aaron nodded, slipping off partially as Robert rolled onto his side, still caught between Aaron’s thighs, but with Aaron mostly on his back now. It did his foot no favours at all, but it felt better with Aaron under him, distracted by kisses, his hands on Robert’s arms. When Aaron’s hands shifted to move, Robert immediately caught them in his, lacing their fingers together and pressing Aaron’s hands back against the pillows, losing himself to open mouthed kisses and the slow synchronised rolling of their hips.

“Robert.” Aaron panted into his mouth, half of Robert’s name no more than a puff of hot air.

Robert nodded, letting go of Aaron’s hand to shove at his boxers. This was going to be messy and inelegant, underwear ending up around his knees, his free hand frantically pulling at the remainder of Aaron’s clothes. Aaron wriggled the rest of the way out, lifting his hips and semi-shimmying out of his jeans and boxers, kicking half way out of them, his jeans and boxers left hanging around one ankle, freeing him to get one leg over Robert’s hip, both of them finally pressed together, their cocks leaking and hard.

“Fuck,” Robert hissed, thrusting into the cradle of Aaron’s hips.

Robert glanced down between them, their bodies interlocked, the mess they were making between them, the slip and slide of flesh. He closed his eyes, he had to look away if this was going to last even a minute longer. But looking up was no better because Aaron was arching back, his throat bared, his mouth open and panting, eyes almost closed, lazy narrowed slits, the blues barely visible, but visible enough to see their glazed look. Robert leaned down, tongue lapping into Aaron’s unresisting and panting mouth, his hips continuing to thrust, chasing after release, Aaron’s thigh pressed hard against him.

Robert came first, his mind blitzing out when it had its fill of the feel of Aaron, the sound of him. The thought of him. He looked down between them through a lust-filled haze, his come having painted Aaron’s stomach. It made something deep inside him sizzle and snap, something in the recesses of his mind, something that drove obsession, whispering things like, _more, want, MINE._ _Christ_ , he though, _fuck._

Aaron’s hand moved, reaching between them, making Robert look up at Aaron’s flushed face, his eyes positively glittering with heat. Robert pushed away his hand, taking Aaron’s cock in his grip, thrilled at the way Aaron’s body became taut beneath him, the way his brow furrowed, his expression crying out with want and need. Leaning back just enough to see Aaron, see all of him in one greedy go, Robert started to move his hand in earnest, sliding easily over tight flesh. Aaron’s body reacted by trying to thrust up into Robert’s hold, his hands fisting into the duvet they were lying on top of, the tendons of his neck tight under the skin. He made a keening sound that came deep from his chest, his body going tight before he came with a hard jolt, Robert continuing to stroke him, extracting smaller and smaller tremors until Aaron made a small objecting sound, pawing at Robert’s shoulder.

Robert drank in the sight of him, body glistening with sweat under the evening embers of dim lamp light filtering into his room, his sticky and wet hand smoothing up from Aaron’s hip, up his side to his ribs, feeling the quick rise and fall of his chest as it began to slow down. Aaron blinked up at him, head tilting slightly, shadow of a smile lingering around the corners of his mouth. Robert smiled back, his hand reaching around until he could find his t-shirt. He used it for a quick clean up job before throwing it on the floor and then dipping his head for a kiss, not that their lips seemed to work beyond simple acceptance and enjoyment. He ended up with head resting on Aaron’s shoulder, feeling heavy and satiated.

They lay still and quiet, Robert smiling at the light touch appearing at the nape of his neck, his eyes closing, sleep descending.

**~**

This dream was the variation. This was the dream Robert feared most. He was back in the barn, fire licking up the walls, thirstily consuming wood and hay, and he was running to escape. Only there was someone standing there blocking his way. Robert came to a stop, frozen where he stood. There was a wave of heat at his back, getting closer and closer, making his heart beat quickly.

Robert shook his head, frantic, distraught. “Andy...”

“You did this,” Andy told him, expressionless, his eyes dark.

“No. No,” Robert said, his voice tight, before he let out a sob. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Andy shook his head, reaching out to grab Robert, turning to flame, burning them both.

Robert awoke, face pressed into the dampened fabric of his pillowcase, his chest heaving. He closed his eyes, tried to control his breathing, sniffing back tears that continued to trickle disobeying his silent order of _enough just stop_.

An arm tightened around him, making him open his eyes. He stilled at the thought of Aaron waking up next to a mess of a man. But Aaron’s breath was warm on his neck, his body shifting ever so slightly, spooned behind Robert.

“It’s okay,” Aaron said quietly, kissing the back of his shoulder. “Just a bad dream.”

“Sorry,” Robert said thickly. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You did that when you kicked me,” Aaron said, somehow conveying the smile on his face through his tone.

“Yeah. Sorry. Used to drive my ex mad,” Robert said. “Not so sorry about that now.”

Aaron huffed out a quiet little laugh, his hand moving to stroke Robert’s arm. Robert didn’t even realise he was shivering. But he warmed quick under Aaron’s touch. He had awoken before, the way he did during his broken sleep. He had held still, feeling Aaron silently and sweetly mapping the damage on one side of Robert’s back, fingers smoothing over scars, lips kissing too smooth skin. Robert had said nothing, scowling against such tenderness, closing his eyes when he realised Aaron had fallen asleep, his cheek pressed to Robert’s shoulder, where the scar ended in the shape of a flame.

Aaron shifted, squeezing out the remaining spaces between them, his body curled around Robert. His arm threaded through the crook of Robert’s elbow to wrap around his stomach and pull him closer. Finally, Aaron pressed his cheek to Robert’s shoulder, his leg inserting itself between Robert’s. It would be so easy, Robert thought, to get used to this, to have Aaron all around him. So easy.

“What you doing?” Robert asked quietly, his heart throbbing painfully in his chest.

“Trying to sleep,” Aaron murmured. “You should too.”

Robert nodded, lying there concentrating on the feel of Aaron’s body against his, the warmth of him, the scratch of his stubble, the way he seemed to be holding Robert as if he could physically pull him away from bad dreams.

It felt safe.

**~**

Robert blinked awake, slow and sluggish, straight into the glare of morning light, squinting. He turned his head to find Aaron, but he was perched on the other side of the bed, within touching distance, pulling on his top, the pale taut planes of his back disappearing too soon from view.

“What time is it?” Robert asked, voice rusty in his throat.

“Almost nine. You’ve been out like a light,” Aaron said, turning to look at him. Aaron had a strange little smile on his face, his gaze dipping momentarily as he said, “You alright?”

Robert thought about it, nodding slowly. “Yeah. You?”

Aaron made a show of thinking it over before turning his nose up at the question. “I suppose.”

“You suppose, eh?” Robert said, before lunging forward and making a grab for Aaron, pulling him close, hands tight around his waist. A laugh bubbled out of Aaron, his hands grabbing at Robert’s fingers before he could think of doing anything. He half-lay there against Robert’s chest, grinning brightly. Robert resisted for precisely one second before he leaned in for a small kiss, morning breath be damned.

Aaron was staring at him with such softness in his eyes it was unnerving. He reached out to stroke his hand up and down Robert’s arm. “Last night…you were really upset.”

Robert looked away, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Aaron nodded. “Okay. If you ever do though, you know-”

“I know,” Robert said with a nod. He looked at Aaron, into his earnest gaze. Meaning it, he said, “Thanks.”

Aaron nodded back with a small smile, somehow looking sympathetic without making Robert feel ashamed, the way he used to as a kid when people heard the name Robert Sugden. Poor boy, their looks seemed to say, lost his _real_ mum in a crash, and then his dad too. Wasn’t it all just so tragic? They didn’t know the half of it.

“Robert! You decent in there?”

Both Robert and Aaron turned their heads towards the door at the same time, Robert replying, “No!”

“Well, I’m coming in! It’s almost nine, do you know how much I’ve already got done?” Sarah barged into the room, stopping short at the sight of Robert and Aaron together. It was sheer luck that Robert was under the covers, and Aaron dressed. It appeared she hadn’t learned anything from Robert’s youth. “Oh. Goodness. Right. Well... I suppose I’ll have to put some breakfast on for you too.”

Aaron sat up, extricating himself from Robert’s grip. “Um. I should probably get going.”

“Are you sure? It’s no bother,” Sarah said, Robert grinning at the pink rising in Aaron’s cheeks.

“Yeah, it’s no bother,” Robert said with a grin. It earned him a twin set of glares.

“No, I was supposed to get in early today,” Aaron told her sheepishly as he got up from the bed. He made his way to the door, but not before he tripped over the mess of Robert’s jeans on the floor, face red by the time he was out of the room, giving Robert a look from behind Sarah’s shoulder. When she turned, he smiled at her. “Uh. Bye.”

“Bye love,” Sarah told him cheerily, before turning her gaze on Robert, brow arched in curiosity.

Robert grinned and said, “What’s for breakfast?”

**~**

“Can’t say I saw that coming,” Sarah said, sitting down at the kitchen table as Robert tucked into breakfast. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually had an appetite, but this morning his mum’s fry up was hitting the spot.

“What?” Robert said.

“You and Aaron,” she said, taking a sip of her tea and watching him over the rim of her cup.

“Not something I planned. Just happened,” Robert said with a shrug. She nodded, smiling, taking another long sip. He sighed and put his fork down. “What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Mum. Come on,” Robert said with a roll of his eyes. “Just say whatever it is.”

She laughed. “It’s nothing. I like Aaron. I think he’s a lovely boy.”

“But?” Robert prodded with a frown.

“But what?” Sarah asked, looking confused.

Robert shook his head. “Dunno. Thought you were gonna warn me off. Tell me not to ruin his life or something.”

Sarah leaned forward, wrapping her fingers around his hand. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. There is no shame in therapy.”

Robert grinned at her, pulling his hand away. “Shut up.”

“Why on earth would I be warning you off?” Sarah said. “You’re my son. I want you to be happy. And, if I could pick a potential son-in-law-”

“Hold your horses. Spent the night, not proposed.”

“All I’m saying is...I like him,” she said with a shrug. “Though... I have seen Chas Dingle slap people for less than messing around with her baby boy, and I’d rather not be at the end of one of a Dingle slap. Thank you very much.”

Robert grinned at her. “Okay. Fine. Message received.”

“However,” she said, looking quite innocent. “ _If_ you were to stick around…”

“Mum-”

“And _if_ you and Aaron were dating-”

“ _Mum!”_

“You would have my blessing. I mean, _if_ all those things were going to happen,” Sarah said. “If.”

Robert shook his head. “I think you’ve forgotten I couldn’t get away from this place fast enough.”

“Quite the opposite,” she said with a knowing look. “I knew how hard it was for you, how much you wanted to leave this place behind. But...I dunno, sitting here right now, you could almost pass for comfortable.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly, narrowing her eyes at him. “That day you turned up here. You looked broken. I was so worried. You’ve got some colour in your cheeks now.”

Robert wanted to say something, something about her making things better the way she always did. The words got stuck in his chest and instead he leaned out of his chair to hug her tight.

“Robert,” she whispered, her hand stroking the back of his head.

He pulled back, not looking at her, too uncertain. “Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

She held his face in both hands and beamed at him. “You’d do just fine. Because you’re Robert Sugden. You get knocked down, you get back up. Don’t you?”

Robert took one of her hands, squeezing as he nodded. Smiling at him, she pulled back and nodded to the plate in front of him.

“Go on, finish that. And then maybe we can talk about inviting Aaron around for tea or something.” Robert’s cutlery clattered to the table as he sighed. She simply gave him an innocent look, asking, “Too soon?”

**~**

Robert spent some of his afternoon looking at his phone, contemplating sending Aaron a message. Thought to be fair it was less contemplation and more of him resisting the temptation to send a message. They’d spent the greater portion of the day before together, how was he already craving Aaron’s company? He thought back to Chrissie. Had it been like this? Had it been like this with anyone? After five minutes of scowling into nothingness, he couldn’t recall anything coming close to the constant buzzing itch he felt for Aaron.

Robert decided to take a walk to clear his head. He’d been holed up in Emmerdale long enough. He had to start thinking of the future, of getting back up. He had money. Less than he had months ago, but more than he had when he’d left Emmerdale. He could move into a decent enough flat without falling too low on the social ladder. He’d probably have to say goodbye to the TV deals though, since he’d been painted as an absolute scoundrel by the tabloids.

He sighed, coming to a stop outside the village graveyard, the place where Jack Sugden had been for the best part of Robert’s life. Robert told his dad once, offhandedly, that he wasn’t going to be a farmer. The look on Jack Sugden’s face in that moment was still imprinted in his mind. He’d brought it up once with Sarah, asking her if she thought he’d be disappointed that Robert hadn’t followed in his footsteps.

“He wasn’t always a farmer, your dad,” she had told him. “He just had selective amnesia when it came to everything else that came before.”

She thought it was funny, but the Jack Sugden she remembered seemed funnier than his dad. In his mind, his father was a stern figure, brow always burdened by something or other, and that day, the look on his face had been a mixture of disappointment and shock, but the expression had washed away quick into resignation, as if he already knew, Robert wasn’t the one who would follow in his footsteps.

“Looking for more fit werewolves?” Robert snapped out of his miserable musing to see Aaron walking towards him, leash in hand with an Alsatian on the other end of it.

Robert nodded towards the dog. “Who’s your friend?”

“Clyde? Robert. Robert? You might remember Clyde from when you were drunk and he got a bit friendly with ya the other night.”

“Alright Clyde?” Robert said, receiving an enthusiastic bark in return, the exchange putting a grin on Aaron’s face

“So,” Aaron said, tipping his head up towards the graveyard. “You going in? Come on then. I’m on me lunch break. Keep you company.”

Aaron walked on ahead before Robert could say a word. Robert looked around, as if he’d find a portal to disappear into, but Aaron was being enthusiastically dragged along by Clyde, unaware that Robert was rooted to the spot. Aaron came to a stop when it seemed he’d realised Robert wasn’t behind him, finally turning around, waiting. Robert stared at him for a moment, and then started to walk, continuing until he was at Aaron’s side, looking at two gravestones he’d avoided long enough.

 _ **Jack Sugden**_ and _**Andy Sugden**_ lay side by side. He blinked at them, black writing on grey, one for his father, one for his brother. He swallowed down the tight knot in his throat, looking at the elegant black writing that remembered a good father, and a good husband, remembered a good son and a good brother. He could do nothing more than stare at the inert stones that marked the burial spots of his dad and brother.

Robert felt the warmth of Aaron’s arm appearing around his back, a hand on his shoulder. “You alright?”

“Been trying to find the nerve to come see them. Thought it would feel massive. Seeing them here. Couldn’t do it,” Robert murmured.

“I know,” Aaron said. Robert turned his head, frowning at Aaron. “I saw you a couple of times, standing out there.”

Robert shook his head, wondering if he should have been annoyed. But he felt too wiped out to feel anything beyond numb. “Been stalking me have ya?”

“Yeah, right. Not my fault every time I turn around, you’re right there,” Aaron said quietly, as if a private thought had been let slip. “That night I saw you in the forest, I thought, that’s him. The weirdo who hangs around the graveyard but won’t go in. I started to wonder. Thought you might be a really fit ghost actually.”

The quiet confession came with a small mischievous smile that made Robert want to pull Aaron close and kiss him senseless. But not at the foot of the graves where his father and brother lay. He looked at them, well kept plots, fresh flowers. Of course his mum was still taking care of them. Not like Robert who had just run away from it all. Robert turned away from the graves, looking around until another gravestone caught his eye. He swallowed, looking at the way it was tilted. Someone had been keeping the weeds at bay there too.

“What?” Aaron asked.

“Pat Sugden,” Robert said, words tumbling from his mouth a little frantically, “my mum. Died in a car crash when I was a baby. That’s what happened to your dad, wasn’t it? Car crash. That’s why you moved into the village.”

Aaron seemed taken aback, if the small flinch was any indication. Quietly he answered, “Yeah.”

Robert nodded. “I remember seeing you about. What were you? Seven? Eight?”

“Seven,” Aaron said, his voice sounding off. He looked away, his eyes looking a little bright.

Robert’s mouth twisted as he shook his head and said, “I think I’ll go home. Ankle’s not feeling great.”

“Robert-”

“I’ll call you later, yeah?” Robert called over his shoulder, already moving, done with the dead.

**~**

The afternoon was strange. He’d sat at the kitchen table staring at his phone, the name **Chrissie** like a beacon flashing at him. He could call her. Ask her to give it another go. They’d been good together. He was ambitious, she was ruthless, and it made for an unstoppable team. He could beg her to give him one more chance and be shot of this village. _What’s stopping you from licking your wounds somewhere else?_ No one had made him come back to Emmerdale. He’d done it all by himself, turned up on his mother’s doorstep, let her hold him, take care of him. He had wanted to come here. No one dragged him back but him.

Robert picked up his phone and dialled. When he was greeted with a hello, he said, “Will you come over after work? I could do you tea.”

There was quiet pause into which Robert imagined a multitude of things, before Aaron quietly replied. “Want me to bring anything?”

“Just you,” Robert said.

**~**

They ended up in his bedroom, like they knew they would, notions of tea forgotten. Robert lay in bed, half under and half outside the duvet, watching Aaron shut the window, the air having turned too cool. Looking at him sent a fresh spike of want through Robert, Aaron’s hair having escaped the control of the gel, turning soft and curling at his forehead, accompanied by the stubble, which he idly scratched as he made his way back to bed, naked chest still flushed, his body looking honied in the light of the bedside lamp, limbs relaxed, keeping secret the strength they had in them, in those thighs, those arms.

Aaron’s cock hung curved and spent in its groomed nest of dark hair, thick and inviting. Robert’s heart hammered a little harder, remembering the feel of it in his mouth, Aaron’s fingers tight in his hair, and the uncontrolled jerk of Aaron’s hips as he fucked deep into Robert’s mouth, offering a breathless _sorry_ at the surprised sound Robert made in his throat. _Fuck, Robert_ , he had croaked like he was in pain, making Robert moan as he sucked Aaron off. Then it all seemed over too quickly, Aaron’s warning coming at the same time as him, his come hitting the back of Robert’s throat.

“Fuck,” Aaron had said, falling agsinst Robert, almost toppling him from where he sat on the edge of the bed. He hugged Aaron around the hips, coughing up a storm against his stomach. Aaron’s hand appeared on the back of his neck, heavy like an anchor. “You alright?”

Robert coughed, nodding. “Went in…” A hard cough followed. “Wrong way.”

He couldn’t quite breathe, but he had started to laugh, and Aaron had curved over him, laughing with him, before dragging him on the bed, taking Robert’s swollen cock in his hand and slowly working it as he lay on his side, hovering over Robert, dragging his lips across Robert’s shoulder, nipping and biting his way to Robert’s lips, before licking into his mouth with syrupy slowness, his hand all the while toying with Robert, riling him up only to bring him back to the edge, Robert made a noise of complaint, scowling and turning his head away from Aaron’s smiling mouth, drawing up his good leg, hips chasing more friction.

“It’s alright, making it good for ya,” Aaron whispered, chasing his mouth, murmuring against his bottom lip.

Robert closed his eyes, arching back, the only sound coming from him an acquiescing hum in his chest. Aaron’s mouth opened hotly against his cheek, just breathing, before Robert felt Aaron’s head tilting, his hand moving fast again, and then Aaron’s mouth smiling against his ear as he whispered, “You look good like this.”

“Shut up,” Robert said, panting when Aaron’s fist became tight, making the slide of his palm electric on Robert’s skin. _“_ _Aaron.”_

“You do though. Look at ya,” Aaron said.

And Aaron was, when Robert hazily glanced at him, looking down the length of Robert’s body like he was going to devour him whole. Two strokes, and a third, Robert came, the image of Aaron imprinting on his mind, of his eyes glittering with lust, mouth open, half-smile, half want. An image that snapped into Robert’s mind even now as Aaron crawled up the bed to lie next to him, pressing a kiss against Robert’s mouth before he settled, half on top of Robert in the small bed. Robert threw part of the duvet over him, and Aaron immediately slung a leg over his knee. Robert watched him lifting the remote in his hand to turn the TV on, looking so fucking content, so satisfied lying in the too small bed, in the too small room in a too small house, in a too small village.

“Thanks,” Robert said. Aaron aimed a confused scowl at him. Robert shrugged. “For earlier.”

The taut line of confusion eased and Aaron nodded. “Thought I might have made you angry.”

Robert shook his head. “I was just putting off the inevitable. Had to go sometime.”

Aaron was frowning. He shook his head. “Was that...you’ve never been to see them?”

“I was in hospital after the fire. Burns on my back. Missed the funeral. Once I was out, it just became harder and harder.” Aaron was watching him closely, his eyes open with their gentle curiosity. “You probably think that’s tapped or something.”

“I don’t,” Aaron said, shaking his head. “I know what happened. No one would blame ya.”

“Emmerdale. Where everyone knows everyone’s business.” Aaron said nothing, kind to a fault. “Mum went. She didn’t have to go. She got caught up in that fire too.”

“You were just a kid, Robert,” Aaron said. “You saw your dad and your brother die-”

“I know,” Robert said, abrupt and on the offensive. “I was there. Remember? Got the scars to prove it and everything.”

Aaron let out a little sigh, immediately making Robert feel guilty about his outburst. He shook his head, rubbing at his forehead. Aaron settled his hand on Robert’s thigh, stroking gently.

“Sorry,” Robert said.

“It’s alright. I get it. I really do,” Aaron said. He didn’t though, he really didn’t. Robert shook his head, words frantically scrambling at the tip of his tongue to be let out. Aaron leaned into his line of sight. “You _can_ talk to me if you want. Or not. That’s okay too.”

Robert didn’t look at him, staring at Aaron’s hand on his thigh. He reached out and covered it with his own, wrapping it around Aaron’s fingers, frowning as he sifted through his thoughts. Robert felt a tremor go through him, a frantic feeling in his chest gripping his chest, making his voice waver. He swallowed, daring to look at Aaron.

“I loved my dad.” Aaron turned towards Robert, his focus trained completely on Robert. “But...him and Andy...they were so tight. Like...like he was dad’s real son, not me. Sometimes he’d have this look in his eyes and I wondered if that’s what he wished, that I’d been the adopted one. Maybe...maybe he knew things about me I didn’t even really understand about myself. Maybe he didn’t like what he saw.”

“Robert,” Aaron said softly. “If this is about your sexuality, you can’t know how your dad would have reacted.”

“I _do_. I know it,” Robert said stubbornly. Aaron rubbed the front of Robert’s chest, staying close, watching him. “I was so angry all the time. And I wished Andy would just disappear. I even wished that...that it was just me, Mum and Vic. That they’d just go. I _wished_ it, Aaron, and then the next day-”

“Robert,” Aaron said, his voice harder than Robert imagined it could be. He was shaking his head, an incredulous look on his face. “They didn’t die because you _wished_ it. You were just a kid. If everything I’d wished when I was a kid came true half this village would be missing and I’d be a millionaire.”

Robert shook his head, unable to shake the feeling of that moment, the bone deep, heartfelt wish. _He’s taken my dad,_ he had thought, _he’ll take my mum, and my sister too_. _I hate them both, I hate them so much. I wish I wish I wish..._ He’d thought it so many times.

“Robert. Look at me,” Aaron said softly. Robert met his gaze, if not entirely. “You can’t think like that.”

“I didn’t want them to die,” Robert said desperately. _“_ _I didn’t.”_

Aaron pulled his hand out of Robert’s grasp in exchange for taking Robert’s face in both hands and pulling him close for a soft kiss. When they pulled apart, they remained close, foreheads touching. It felt like being in a bubble, just him and Aaron, the universe continuing its spin around them. Robert pulled back enough to look Aaron in the eyes, taking him in, mapping the look of him into his mind.

They kissed again, this time deeper, nothing chaste about it.

**~**

They’d slept for a bit, wrapped up in each other’s arms, smiling at each other, smiles giving way to lazy kissing and touching, pressing close to each other, enjoying the slide of limbs and skin. For once in his life, Robert didn’t feel like rushing, but rather savouring. It was the loud rumble in Aaron’s stomach that brought them to a stop, Aaron pulling back with a toothy grin as he said, “Sorry.”

Being the speedier of the two, Aaron had dressed and bounded down the stairs, almost done cooking them up a meal of scrambled eggs on toast with tea by the time Robert sat down at the table. Aaron hadn’t bothered with shoes, a decision he would regret the second a kitchen accident soaked through his socks. He _was_ awful in the kitchen though, all burnt fingers and curses, dropping cups and plates. Robert loved watching him.

The eggs and toast though, with a nice cup of tea? Perfection, Robert thought, his belly content, and a sense of well-being settling over him. The best part was Aaron watching him closely as Robert put his cup down, pushing away his empty plate. Aaron’s eyes did a shifty little dance, before his brows climbed up at Robert in question.

Robert wiped his hand across his mouth. “What?”

Aaron nodded towards the almost clean plate. “Well? Go on. Do your worst, Chef.”

Robert leaned in, elbows on tables, fingers linking together. “Absolutely delicious.”

“Right,” Aaron said, narrowing his eyes, “only, it doesn’t look like you’re talking about the food.”

“Oh the food?” Robert pretended to look surprised, leaning back and grinning at Aaron. “That wasn’t too bad either.”

“Shut up you,” Aaron said, getting up to clear the plates.

They shared a glance, a smile, and Aaron turned towards the sink. _Nice_ , Robert thought, _this._ It was all so simple. Too simple? Robert angled his head, watching Aaron silently getting on with the dishes. There it was again. A sense of contentment. He’d had everything with Chrissie, but that. Their life was lavish, big, loud, but never content. He was always itching for something more. Somewhere that felt like he belonged. It hadn’t occurred to him that somewhere could be a someone.

Aaron let out an annoyed _aaghh_ , dropping a plate in the sink, reaching into one of the back pockets of his jeans, struggling for a few seconds to get traction on his phone screen. He answered irately, making Robert grin. “ _Yes!_ What about Clyde? Oh you are joking me. Paddy, I told you to keep an eye on him! Well, I told you he was sneaky too! Well, I’ll have to won’t I? Bye. Paddy, _bye._ ”

Aaron sighed, turning to look at Robert. Robert stood up, nodding. “Let me guess. We’re going werewolf hunting.”

**~**

“Clyde!” Aaron yelled into the forest. This was apparently Clyde’s most favourite and last stop on his night time trail of destruction. Only they hadn’t spotted even a single wag of a tail or stolen bra for that matter. Robert stopped walking. It started with a disbelieving shake of his head, and then a snort of laughter, until it was bubbling out of him.

“Oh. You enjoying this are ya?” Aaron asked, failing at sounding offended, the moonlight glinting off his smile.

Robert nodded. “Just a bit, yeah.”

Aaron nodded back, silently observing Robert for a bit. “Good. I’m glad. Wanna sit down? How’s the ankle?”

Robert made a face. “A sit down would be good.”

Aaron waited until Robert was at his side, both of them making slow progress towards a large log. They sat down, Aaron bumping shoulders with Robert. “Can I ask you something?”

Robert nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”

“What happened?” Aaron asked quietly. “You know, in London.”

“Surprised you haven’t just Googled it,” Robert said.

“Never been much for gossip,” Aaron said, turning his nose up at the idea.

Robert offered up a hum of understanding. “I was an idiot.”

“Ah,” Aaron said, nodding. There was a small smile on his face, but no trace of judgement. He just sat there, not prodding, not poking. Just being.

“I had this big argument with my wife, Chrissie,” Robert told him quietly. “She was accusing me of cheating, lying, all sorts. I’m not a saint, she had good reason to doubt me, but after we got married, I tried to be a good husband. Or at least I thought I did. But we still argued. I just...felt frustrated. If she wasn’t putting her dad her first, then it was her son. I was like... _nothing_. So...after this big row, I got hammered and...I slept with someone. Her sister.”

Aaron let out a small shocked laugh. “Wow.”

“I’m not proud of myself,” Robert admitted. “Chrissie kept pushing and I finally pushed back.”

“Did a bit more than that,” Aaron said, a little smirk visible on his face as he eyed their surroundings. “Your wife tell you to sling your hook, did she? Can't say I blame her. I'd have told you to do one too if I was her.”

Robert gave Aaron a long look, nodding thoughtfully. “Well, she walked out. Then my father-in-law got involved, said he wanted me out of the family business. Which was fair enough, but I had a stake in that business. I worked hard to make it succeed. But that didn’t matter to him. He wanted me gone. I was all over the place. Chrissie wouldn’t even talk to me. I had enough. Told them all I wouldn’t just leave it, I wanted what I was owed for my work. In the meantime, I finished filming on _Too Many Cooks_. _”_

“Quality show,” Aaron said with a nod, making Robert smile.

“I thought it wouldn’t be so bad losing my place at _Whites’,_ if this TV thing took off. I could make something of it,” Robert said. He let out a heavy sigh. “Went and screwed that up too. Met this bloke, Connor. It was months after Chrissie had walked out, just meant to be fun, nothing serious. Rebecca found out. Next thing I knew there was all this rubbish on the internet about Chrissie dumping her gay cheat of a husband. Connor sold his story. I can’t prove it, but I _know_ Chrissie and Rebecca had something to do with that.”

This got a slower and heavier, “Wow.”

“Probably deserved that.”

“ _No_ ,” Aaron said quietly. “Well, not all of it.”

Robert looked down into the dark of the woods. “I guess we weren’t meant to be.”

“What about that?” Aaron asked, tipping his chin up in the direction of Robert’s ankle. “Chrissie take a crowbar to ya?”

“Nope, this was all me.” Robert said, moving his foot side to side. “Fell down some stairs drunk off my head. Cleaner found me with my car keys on my way to do more damage no doubt. I suppose it could have been worse. As Vic said... everything happens for a reason.”

Aaron smiled at him. “The reason you broke your ankle is because you’re a muppet.”

Robert grinned at him, but it faded as he thought about him and Aaron standing in the graveyard earlier in the day, Robert digging up corpses that had nothing to do with him. “I’m sorry about before. Bringing up your dad like that. I was being an idiot.”

Aaron shrugged. “It’s alright.”

Robert nodded. “Still.”

“It’s fine,” Aaron said. “It’s not like I’ve been avoiding my dad’s grave unlike _some_ people I know.”

“Wow,” Robert said, somewhere between surprised and amused. “Thanks.”

Aaron laughed quietly. “Sorry.”

“You’re not,” Robert said muttered, grinning. He looked across at Aaron who sat there so loose and easy to be with. “Seven though. That’s young. Must miss him.”

Aaron made a face. “Yeah, a bit. But…you know, I’ve got some good memories. Best mate. Super dad. He was lucky though. Died before...all the stuff Paddy had to put up with, like...a gobby kid who never knew when to let up. I had this phase where I was just angry at him all the time. He was so understanding about everything. I kept thinking why does it have to be you? Why can’t me real dad be here and be like this? Does that sound weird?”

“No,” Robert said, shaking his head. “Not at all.”

Aaron was quiet for a moment, so quiet Robert could hear the gears in his head turning. He turned towards Robert after a moment of contemplation, moonlight turning him ghostly.

“I don’t want to think bad things happen for good reasons. I don’t want my dad dying for some weird cosmic reason that I don’t know about, like it’s...destiny or something, you know? But...if I had to choose, I couldn’t give Paddy up. He seems to be a good reason for a bad thing. Which, by the way, he would be the first person to say _well that makes no sense_.”

Robert smiled, reaching out for Aaron’s hand, taking it in his, holding it tight. Aaron looked away, his gaze fixed on their joined hands.

“Life can be unfair, Robert. That’s just life though, innit?” Aaron said, matter-of-fact, a kind smile on his face. “But...sometimes it can be good too. It can give you things you weren’t even looking for.”

Robert nodded, leaning in to press a light and chaste kiss to Aaron’s mouth. Aaron kissed back with a smile, before getting up, still holding onto Robert’s hand and tugging.

“Come on, I’ve got to find this dog of mine.”

Six feet behind them Clyde barked, looking bored and neglected when they finally noticed him.

**~**

Clyde taken care of, for the time being, they both snuck into Aaron’s bedroom at the Woolpack. It was much bigger than Robert’s at his mum’s house _and_ it had a double bed. Aaron had laughed at Robert’s glee, before kissing him silly and pulling at his clothes until Robert was naked enough. Stripping out of his boxers, he had smiled at Robert who was sat against the headboard, one leg stretched out on the bed, the other hanging off the side, his foot pressed against the floor.

Aaron’s eyes raked over his body openly and hungrily before he joined Robert by straddling his thighs. They both tensed at the same time, letting out a grunt, an exhalation of air, their cocks touching, already hard. Robert caught Aaron’s mouth as soon as he had him in his arms, palms spread across Aaron’s back, smoothing their way up to his shoulder blades. Aaron’s tongue moved languidly against Robert’s, a satisfied hum coming from his chest as his arms wrapped around Robert’s shoulders.

Robert wanted his mouth all over Aaron, he wanted to kiss a trail from his lips, chaste, all the way down his body before he’d wrap his mouth around Aaron’s thick cock. But he couldn’t get enough of Aaron’s mouth. They alternated between long kisses, tasting each other, latching on tight, and when it became too much, lips parting against each other, both of them breathing hot and loud, all the while Aaron in his lap, rolling his hips against Robert, sliding their cocks together.

One arm tightening around Robert’s shoulders, Aaron’s other arm shifted, his hand sliding down to Robert’s chest, his palm spread over Robert’s heart for a moment. Their kisses becoming uncoordinated, they ended up with their foreheads pressed together, Robert rocking his body to the rhythm of Aaron’s. Aaron made a breathy sound, his hand falling between them, fisting around both their cocks, before he let out a loud moan.

“Wait wait,” Robert whispered, his eyes closing. “Slow down.”

Aaron’s grip loosened as he began to slide his fist slowly. He tilted his head, pushing his mouth hard against Robert’s, just as Robert shifted his foot on the ground, moving his leg to tilt Aaron closer. Robert slid one of his hands down Aaron’s back which had turned just a bit slippery, sweat having broken out across his skin. The slip of his fingers on Aaron’s skin felt electric as he slid them down until his hand was filled with one cheek, Robert kneading Aaron’s behind, getting a low moan out of him. The rhythm of Aaron’s hand seemed to stutter, his grip tightening.

“ _Ah_ , Aaron,” Robert grunted.

Aaron shook his head, nosing the side of Robert’s face, mouth opening against his jaw in an aimless attempt to kiss or speak or something. Robert let his fingers wander between Aaron’s cheeks, idly moving up and down without intent, but Aaron jerked against him, letting out a gasp. Robert pulled back, gaze lowered to Aaron’s lip, taking in the sight of his flushed mouth before mouthing at those same lips, coaxing them apart, his finger moving all the while with a little more certainty, rubbing up against the pucker of Aaron’s hole.

Aaron’s body tilted against him, his hand coming to a stop, now just fisted around their dicks. It wasn’t going to take much for Robert, he was sure most of the mess on Aaron’s fist was his, and he was teetering close to coming, his whole body lost in a storm of want. Pressing his finger in a little, Robert leaned back and looked at Aaron to find him looking back as if he was viewing Robert through a drunken haze.

“Okay?” Robert whispered. Aaron nodded, his hair beginning to look damp, colour high on his cheeks.

Robert leaned forward and kissed him, slipping the tip of his finger into Aaron, rubbing at the rim of his pucker, slow and for the pleasure of how it felt on his finger, feeling Aaron flutter and clench. Aaron's breath came in puffs of air against Robert’s ear, his hand beginning to move again, finding new rhythm, this time one that matched the movement of Robert’s finger, sliding a little deeper into Aaron each time. Aaron was tight, but he was taking it. Anything more though, Robert wasn’t going to consider it without some kind of prep. This though, this just felt good, a little of him inside the tight heat of Aaron’s body for no other reason than to just be.

Aaron was moving into it too, towards the friction of Robert’s finger inside him, until Robert’s hand just stopped moving back out, his hand staying it where was, holding Aaron to him. Aaron moaned, arching back, Robert taking the opportunity to kiss his throat, licking at the taste of sweat. Aaron’s hand started working their cocks hard, Robert’s finger held in a tight clench. Robert let his head drop down on Aaron’s shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as he felt release closing in, until his hips jerked up and he came with a jarring jolt.

He felt come hit his chin and his cheek, but he had no idea if it was his own or Aaron’s because Aaron’s hips were stuttering against him before Aaron bodily fell forward against Robert, their sweat and come mingling between them. He made a small noise as Robert withdrew his finger, body tightening for just a moment, before he relaxed again, Robert wrapping his arms around Aaron’s waist. They stayed like that for a while, the world blissfully narrowed to just to their bodies.

It was Robert who pulled back first and said, “We should get cleaned up.”

Aaron nodded. “Sec.”

Robert smiled. “Come on. Get off.”

Aaron slid off to the side with a groan, landing on his back, looking utterly spent. Risky as it was, Robert decided he’d be the one to quickly nip out. He opened the door a crack and could see the bathroom down the small hallway. He grabbed one crutch, making his way nakedly and quickly down the hall, making quick work of cleaning up inside the bathroom and then returning with a damp towel for Aaron. Aaron looked like he was quite happy to fall asleep covered in come, making no attempt to use the towel, so Robert went ahead and cleaned him up, disposing of the towel in the laundry hamper. It was once the lights were off, and they were both under the covers, Aaron moved, shifting to turn on his side, slinging an arm across Robert’s stomach.

“Really? Thought you’d passed out for a second.” Aaron laughed, sounding just a little wrecked. “Wind up.”

Robert felt a kiss pressed to his shoulder. “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm.”

“What are you gonna do now? You know, when you get back to London?” Aaron asked. Robert tried to make out the tone of the question, but there wasn’t anything to latch on, anything that told him why Aaron was interested, what he felt.

“Well,” Robert said. “I no longer have an apartment there, a job, family. Don’t have any of the stuff keeping me there.”

“Meaning?” Aaron asked.

“Meaning, I’ll probably have to hang around until I can figure out what I’m doing next.” Aaron said nothing to that, even though Robert was waiting for _something_. “Why? You trying to get rid of me?”

“Yeah,” Aaron said quietly. “Sick of you, I am.”

Robert smiled, not missing the fact that Aaron’s sarcasm didn’t quite come off. Rolling towards Aaron, he pulled him close, pressing their bodies together. “Well, I’m not, sick of you that is.”

“Are you not?” Aaron asked quietly.

“I can’t imagine that being possible,” Robert said.

Aaron chuckled. “Smooth.”

**~**

Aaron was gone when Robert woke from a bone deep sleep. He lifted his head from the pillow and peered at the room, the grey hues strangely comforting. His eyes moved from a hoodie hanging on the back of a door, to a pair of trainers on the floor, an array of items on the dresser. Sitting up a little, Robert thought about London. There wasn’t a single thing he had missed about it. All he had brought back from London was anger and shame. Nothing else. But lying here, he imagined being back in London, and already his body had tensed in objection. He’d miss this, with Aaron, whatever _this_ was. Though he didn’t really want to think about it either, because it felt...immense.

Robert shook off his thoughts, sorting himself out and heading downstairs. He drifted to the back room where he could hear Aaron and Chas, tentatively making his way inside. Chas looked up at him with a smile, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea.

“Robert,” she said. “You stayed over. Which is _fine_. We’re all grown ups here. Kind of.”

Robert gave her an awkward smile, noting that Aaron was watching his mother very carefully, slightly shaking his head at her. He told her, “Thought you had a busy day ahead.”

“Oh I don’t mind staying for a bit and having breakfast with you boys,” Chas said, beaming at Aaron as he sat there looking unimpressed.

Aaron looked up at Robert. “Breakfast at the caf?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Robert said, itching to leave. “Um, sorry, I left my jacket upstairs. Don’t mind do you?”

“‘Course not,” Aaron said, getting up from the table and heading to the door where he abruptly stopped to look at Chas. She gave him a smile, receiving a narrow-eyed look in return. Aaron said, “I’ll be back in _five_ seconds.”

Chas grinned at Robert as soon as Aaron disappeared, letting out a giggle. “Little scruff. So, how’s your ankle, love?”

“Yeah, getting better,” Robert said with a nod.

Chas got up, nodding and approaching him. She patted him on the shoulder. “That’s good. Though, just a little word of warning. Hurt my baby boy and I _will_ break the other one. Is that clear, Robert Sugden?”

Robert clamped back on the grin, nodding before he told her, “Crystal.”

Chas smiled. “He seems to have forgotten you’re here licking your wounds because your name is muck in London.”

“You’re not giving him enough credit then,” Robert said.

Chas gave him a patient look. “I just don’t want you to hurt him.”

Robert frowned at her. “What makes you think I would?”

“Oh I don’t know, big name in the culinary world, TV chef, successful businessman,” Chas said. “I can’t see how a village vet in training fits into your glamorous lifestyle is all.”

“Trust me, it’s not that glamorous.” Robert said. “And I wouldn’t. Hurt him that is.”

“What’s going on here?” Aaron asked, walking with Robert’s jacket in hand, aiming a worried look between Robert and Chas.

“Chas was just asking me about my ankle,” Robert said.

“Right,” Aaron said, looking just a little unconvinced. “Come on then, I’m starving.”

Robert gave Chas a nod and she returned it with a softer one of her own, before she looked at Aaron and really smiled. It stayed with him as they made their way to the cafe, her worry for Aaron. Robert hadn’t considered that the intensity of what he was experiencing with Aaron could end in hurt.

“You gone all quiet on me,” Aaron said, both of them walking side by side.

Robert shook his head. “Just thinking about stuff.”

“Like London?” Aaron asked with a lift of his chin. Robert nodded. “What about it?”

“I dunno. Options I suppose. Not sure what happens to Michelin starred chefs who get canned for cheating on their wives, and plastered across the internet for sleeping with some random bloke. The _one_ time by the way. Too scared to even go online after the last headline I saw. _Robert_ emphasis _gay_ _Connolly: the fall, from top to bottom_. I mean seriously?”

Aaron let out a laugh, which morphed into an apologetic smile as he said, “Sorry. It is quite funny though. _Mean_ , but funny.”

“Oh cheers,” Robert said. “It’s not even true. I can tell people I’m bisexual until I’m blue in the face and they just don’t want to hear it. Chrissie wouldn’t let it drop. Even Rebecca, _especially_ Rebecca. Telling me I just don’t like rules.”

Aaron nodded, quietly, offering no opinion. It made Robert suddenly feel foolish, anger quickly dissipating into embarrassment.

“Sorry. It’s not your problem,” Robert said. “I just need to...move on.”

“Yeah?” Aaron asked, looking careful despite trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yeah,” Robert said firmly. “I’m done with it.”

Aaron nodded, opening the door to the cafe for Robert. They’d been inside two seconds when Adam yelled out from his spot next to Vic on a small couch in the corner, “Alright boys? Aaron, lad. You stood me up again last night, mate.”

Vic aimed a scowl at him. “Oh sorry, was I that boring?”

“Oh, nah, babe, you know I love you, yeah?” Adam said with far too easy charm. It definitely worked on Aaron because he was grinning all the way to his eyes, whilst Vic was still playing put upon, despite the small quirk of her mouth.

Aaron patted Robert on the arm, nodding to an empty chair. “Here, I’ll go put our orders in. Fry up do ya?”

Robert nodded. “Yeah, brilliant. Thanks.”

“Hold up,” Adam said, getting up. “I’ll come with. Babe, you want another coffee?”

“I’m fine thanks. Go catch up with your boyfriend,” Vic said with a snort. Adam just grinned at her, before turning to clap a hand on the back of Aaron’s neck and giving it a squeeze, Aaron swatting him away with a delighted laugh. Robert watched them, frowning, but smiling all the same.

“ _So_ ,” Vic said, stretching out the tiny word to remarkable length.

“So?” Robert asked.

“You two look cosy,” she said with a little smile. “According to Mum you’ve been up to all sorts.”

Robert pulled a face. “Yeah I’d rather she wasn’t talking to you about our all sorts. Or to me. Or _anyone_.”

“She’s just happy for ya,” Vic said with a shrug. “Aaron’s a lovely bloke.”

Robert glanced at Aaron who was standing there, brow furrowed as he listened intently to what Adam was telling him with great animation. “He is.”

Robert looked back at Vic when he heard her laugh, noting she was staring at him with her mouth hanging open. He frowned at her in question and she answered it with a grin and, “ _You_ have got it bad.”

“Shut up,” Robert said, snorting and sitting back.

“You look absolutely smitten, Rob,” Vic said. She gave him a nod. “Better be careful. Dingles’ll either have you drinking out of a wellie, or running for the hills if you put a foot wrong.”

“Yeah, I already had that chat with Chas, thanks,” Robert said, before scowling at her. “Wait...wellie?”

“Don’t ask,” she replied, just as Adam fell into the seat next to her, somehow avoiding spilling coffee from his cup.

Aaron sat down in the tub chair next to Robert, glancing at him with an easy smile. Robert looked back, smiling. But then something seemed to shift inside him and he found himself just staring at Aaron, wanting him...somewhere deeper than flesh and bone and blood and soul. Somewhere that felt a little frightening. Trapped in Robert’s gaze, Aaron’s smile faded, a sober expression appearing on his face. Robert looked away, swallowing. _Smitten_ , Victoria had said. She really didn’t know the half of it.

For the rest of the conversation happeninh around him, Robert felt distracted and adrift, part of him wanting to get up and run away, all the way back to the chaos of London, part of him wanting to drag Aaron back to his bedroom at the pub, and just lay under the covers without plan or purpose, skin to skin, wrapped up tight in each other without a care in the world.

Adam prattled on about something or other, Vic chiming in to reprimand him and poke him, both of them a bright sparky team that seemed to feed off each other’s energy. Next to Robert, Aaron was full of soft smiles, but something was off, something a little sedate about his gaze, which seemed both focused on Adam as he joked and laughed, but also seemed further away, somewhere secret that Robert wasn’t invited.

Breakfast came to an end when Vic left, Adam hot on her heels. She gave Robert a little knowing look on the way out, leaving him shifting uncomfortably. Aaron turned to him then, offering a polite smile. Christ, a _polite_ smile. “I should get to work too.”

“Yeah. I need to catch up on...my morning TV. Busy schedule.” Aaron freed up a genuine smile then, patting Robert’s knee.

They left together, walking in companionable silence until they were at the gate of the Sugden homestead. Aaron stood before him, hands in both pockets, arms a little too stiff. They were both looking at each other wordlessly, the space between them heavy with things unsaid.

“I’ll, um, I’ll see you later,” Robert said quietly.

Aaron nodded, a jerky little movement. He slowly tipped forward a little, pressing a kiss to Robert’s cheek, before sliding away and walking off. Robert turned, watching Aaron striding off. It made Robert’s heart throb strangely, just the sight of Aaron. Smitten wasn’t the right word. There were others, but they were ludicrous for a man he barely knew. Falling for people on first sight, that wasn’t Robert.

**~**

“You’re awfully quiet.”

Robert looked up from where he was sitting, elbow on kitchen table, hand fisted against his mouth, teeth having been worrying his knuckle. He pulled his fist away, noting Sarah’s gaze having dipped to it for a second.

“Well, not much going on, is there?” Robert said.

Sarah sat down, frowning. “Well, I said you were quiet. Didn’t say you had nothing going on.”

Robert gave her a look. He sat back, scowling at the table, trying to drive his mind away from how restless he was feeling, a nervous energy buzzing under his skin. A drink would have been nice around now. Actually, a few drinks maybe.

“So, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Sarah said carefully.

“I didn’t say there was anything wrong,” Robert said.

“No. But I _did_ raise you and have the inside track to how a Robert Sugden works,” she said with an amused smile. “Come on. You can talk to me.”

Robert curled his hand against the table, frowning at the storm of thoughts swirling in his head. “Lawrence’s flagship restaurant. I was going to become partner before it all fell apart.”

Sarah nodded. “Okay.”

He offered up a bitter smile. “He’d agreed to let me rename it _White & Connolly_. Thought it’d make you proud.”

“Robert.” She reached out to take his hand, smiling brightly. “I can’t remember a time I _wasn’t_ proud of you.”

Robert turned his palm up, holding onto her hand as he nodded. “Just wanted to do this one small thing for you.”

“Hey,” she shook his hand. “There’s plenty of time for that. This is nothing more than a temporary glitch. You watch. When this all blows over, people will come knocking on your door, wanting Robert Sugden to put them on the culinary map.”

Robert frowned. London seemed so much further away than it had a decade ago. Nodding, Robert said, “Yeah. I’m sure someone wanting to revel in my failure will snap me up in no time. Once I actually have a door that is.”

Sarah sat back, smacking his hand lightly. “You are a gloomy Gus sometimes, Robert, honestly. Come on. Let’s you and me do something today. Get out of the house. Go for a walk or something.”

Robert thought about it. Nodding, he said, “Actually, there is somewhere I want to go. I thought maybe you could come with me.”

**~**

Robert set the flowers on the graves and carefully stepped back, Sarah once again threading her arm through the crook of his elbow. It was a chilly morning, and the sky was a bright blue without any clouds. It seemed to somehow take away the gloom of the graveyard, light shining down on the graves. It was just him and Sarah there, sharing the quiet together.

“You okay, love?” she asked him.

Robert nodded, murmuring, “I should have come earlier.”

“I’m sure you had your reasons,” Sarah said. “It’s not an easy thing to do. Come here, talk to them like they might actually answer back. But some days, it’s good to have a place _to_ come to. A place to say hello, say goodbye. Stops the whole world from feeling like a tomb.”

Robert looked at her, seeing the sadness darkening her eyes. It was clumsily done with crutches, but he managed to put his arms around her all the same, pressing his cheek to the crown of her head. He should have been here more, for her. For Vic. She pulled back from him, rubbing his arm, always the comforter, always strong.

Nodding to a grave further up, she said, “Come on.”

They laid a third bunch of flowers on the grave of Pat Sugden, a woman neither of them had ever known. “You visit her too?”

Sarah nodded. “Seems like the thing to do. If it wasn’t for her, I’d never have married your dad. I wouldn’t have you, or Victoria. Can’t help but think I owe her one. I don’t suppose that makes any sense.”

Robert tried to imagine a life that didn’t have Sarah in it. “I think it makes sense.”

“Yeah?” He nodded, Sarah nodding along and looking at the grave. After a while, she gave him a poke in the arm. “Right. Why don’t I treat you to a hot chocolate and a sticky bun?”

Robert gave her an amused look. “I’m not five, you know.”

She shook her head, beaming up at him. “And yet, that was not a no.”

**~**

Robert relented and accepted a sticky bun, opting for a much more grown up Americano rather than a hot chocolate. They whiled away some time in the cafe, where an over enthusiastic Bob had greeted him with ‘Oh! Can’t keep away, eh? Latte, is it?’ and Robert had greeted him with a bland, ‘Americano.’ Sarah smacked him on the arm, and he added a ‘please’. They spent time talking about the bistro before he trailed around with her at _David’s_ helping what little he could with the groceries.

“See Eric’s mellowed out then. Not,” he commented as they left.

“Shush,” Sarah said, elbowing Robert.

They went back to the bistro, Sarah wanting to try a recipe on him whilst she waited for a badly timed delivery. “I would have asked Vic,” she said, “But she’s on that course of hers.”

Robert tucked into lunch, enthusiastic and hungry, while Sarah moved between the small space of the kitchen in the back, and the restaurant out front. He looked around the little space, marvelling how much Sarah had done with the place. There was more that could be done too, he could see it. But it would need a little time and financial investment.

“What _are_ you thinking abou _t?_ ” Sarah said as she mopped the floor. Robert scowled, fork full of linguini hanging between his plate and mouth. “I know that look.”

Robert put the fork down, shrugging. “I was just wondering. Haven’t you ever wanted to go a bit bigger? Expand the place a bit maybe. There’s enough room in the back.”

“That sounds a little too ambitious for me,” Sarah said.

“Well, you’ve got me. I could help you if you wanted.”

“I’m really quite happy with the way things are,” Sarah said with a little smile.

“There must be something you want to change,” Robert said. “I mean, it could be a real money spinner.”

“Life is not just about money, Robert,” Sarah said, finishing with the mop. Her smile seemed to waver a little.

A knock at the door stopped the conversation, Sarah going off to take care of the delivery, falling into conversation with the delivery woman outside. Robert was up on his feet when Sarah returned, carrying in a small cardboard box. She had a tense look about her.

“Mum. Did I say something wrong?”

She gave him a smile, and he could see it was tinged with just a little regret. “No, don’t be silly. You know, we _should_ talk about this place. I’d be a fool to turn down free advice from RJ Connolly himself. It _is_ free, isn't it?”

“I’ll think about it,” Robert said with a grin. “Um...why don’t I get out of your hair for a bit?”

“You don’t have to do that,” she told him.

“I know. But I should probably check my emails or something,” Robert said. “Besides. I’m worried if I stay here too long I might get lumbered with peeling something.”

“Well, actually…”

“Sorry, but,” Robert pointed down at his ankle, “injury. Need rest. Doctor said so.”

Sarah shook her head, unimpressed, still turning her cheek though when he leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

**~**

Like hell he was going to check his emails. He could guess the mess waiting for him there. The same rubbish that had been there when he fled London. Randoms asking for interviews. People canceling events and TV spots. Chrissie’s solicitors trying to further shaft him. No thanks. He was beginning to enjoy the life of ignorance.

“Anything good on?” Vic asked, turning up around three in the afternoon, sitting down with a thump next to Robert.

Robert shrugged, handing her the remote, letting her take over aimlessly flicking through every channel. “What’s up with you then?”

“Nothing,” Robert said, hugging one emerald cushion to himself, another between the coffee table top and his foot.

“Nothing my eye, you’ve got a right face on,” Vic said, with her usual sensitivity.

Robert side-eyed her, annoyed. Letting his head drop back with a sigh, he confessed, “I might have accidentally put my foot in it with Mum.”

Vic snorted. “I doubt it. You can do no wrong where Mum’s concerned.”

“You what?” Robert said with a laugh.

“Oh come on, Robert, we both know she loves you best. She thinks the blimmin' sun shines out of your-”

“Oi, you want to wash that mouth out with soap you do,” Robert said.

“Well, I’m right. She’d sooner find fault in the Dalai Lama,” Vic said with a snort, before looking at him with a mischievous grin.

“Victoria,” Robert said seriously. “Jealous much?”

Vic punched him hard in the arm. “Shut up. And tell me what you did.”

“Well, I can’t do both, can I?” Robert groused, earning a roll of Vic’s eyes. He waved a hand at her, explaining, “I...offered to help Mum improve _The_ _Dales_. You know, actually make a profit rather than just make do.”

Vic scowled at him. “What did you do that for? You’ll probably be back in London in a few weeks.”

“Says who? Might be months for all I know,” Robert said.

“But you’re still leaving,” Vic said.

“So?”

“So...having you here these past few weeks. It’s been the _best_. I mean, London’s not the end of the world, but visiting you there, it’s not the same as _this_. Mum’s just been so happy. You can’t just be offering to help out, spend time with her only to go off again. It’s too hard, Robert.”

Robert nodded, biting the inside of his lip, guilt gnawing at his insides.

Vic reached out to squeeze Robert’s wrist. “Rob...she’s just happy to have you here. We both are. If you want to do something, maybe just visit once in a while? It’s nice you shelling out for us to come down to see you, but having you come home...I dunno. It’s just different.”

Robert nodded, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close. It seemed like a good time to tell her, “It’s true though. Mum _does_ love me best.”

He got a bony punch in the arm, but it was worth it.

**~**

Vic went off to help Sarah with opening _The_ _Dales_ for the evening, leaving Robert to his own devices. He realised quickly that the device of wallowing was wearing thin, and the device of drink with its promise of blocking out all the bad was getting boring. He wasn’t going to become some pathetic drunken loser. That wasn’t the man who had married Chrissie and impressed Lawrence, and he certainly wasn’t going to let them turn him into that man.

He got up from his sprawl on the sofa and had a root around the kitchen before deciding on a little walk to _David’s_. He didn’t need much, so he’d easily be able to carry it back even on his crutches. It didn’t seem too busy, not with it being after five, or in local time, pub’o’clock. He took his time making up his mind on the ingredients he wanted, loitering a little too long in front of some chocolate buttons, before finally reaching for the last pack, snatching it before a smaller hand went to make a grab.

He looked at the owner of the hand, a girl, small, age beyond his powers of deciphering. Her brown hair looked windblown, and her red coat seemed needlessly buttoned all the way up to her throat. Though she was much smaller, she was definitely looking down her nose at him, blinking at him owlishly from behind a pair of red-framed glasses.

“I was going to take them,” she complained.

“Well, you should’ve been quicker,” Robert said.

“Aren’t you too old for chocolate buttons?” she asked, narrowing her blue eyes at him.

“Why? What’s the age limit on these?” Robert asked with amusement, looking at the packet in his hand. “Oh look, says here anyone can eat them as long as they’re fast enough to grab them. Hmm. Rules you out, doesn’t it?”

She gave him a furious little glare that made him want to laugh. “You’re not very nice.”

“Yeah. I get that a lot,” he said. He held the small packet out, dangling it in front of her. “Here, go on. All yours. Enjoy the sugar rush. I’m sure your parents will.”

She took the pack, looking at it with some suspicion and then at him with the same suspicious scowl. “You’re weird.”

“Do you want them or not?” he said, reaching for the packet. She nodded, eyes widening a little at the prospect of losing her sweet confection. “Well, hop it then. Go on.”

Chocolates gone, Robert decided on a different recipe altogether, picking up the few things he needed and heading back out. He collided with Aaron as they both tried to pass through the door at the same time, Aaron on his way in as Robert headed out. Robert smiled at the sight of him.

“Aaron. Hi,” he said.

Aaron looked as if he was about to smile before his expression slipped into something more neutral and he just nodded. “Alright?”

“Yeah. You?” Robert asked.

“Yeah, fine,” Aaron said, though the tightness around his eyes and mouth implied otherwise. Looking away from Robert he said, “Just picking up some milk.”

Robert watched him closely. “Look, why don’t you come over to mine. Mum and Vic won’t be back until _The_ _Dales_ is closed.”

Aaron looked away, almost bored. “How about another time, yeah? Not really in the mood for a hookup.”

Just like that, he was gone, grabbing a bottle of milk and going to the counter. Robert watched him pay and turn to leave, looking a little annoyed at seeing Robert still there.

“Aaron, wait,” Robert said.

Aaron shouldered past with a weary, “I’ll see you later, Robert.”

Robert followed him out, dropping a crutch in the process of grabbing his arm. Aaron shrugged him off, a tight look on his face. “Have I done something wrong? Aaron, what is it? Come on, talk to me.”

Aaron swallowed, nodding. “Tell you what. Why don’t we have a chat after you’re done chatting to Rebecca yeah?”

“Is she the lady who was dressed funny?” Robert scowled at the sound of the familiar voice, turning to see Chocolate Buttons Girl.

Robert shook his head, focusing on Aaron. “What are you talking about?”

“She was in the pub earlier, asking for you,” Aaron said. He looked at the bag in Robert’s hand and then back at Robert. “Have a nice catch up.”

“Here you go, you dropped it,” Chocolate Buttons Girl said, holding Robert’s crutch in both hands in an unsteady manner which was going to end up either hitting Aaron or Robert. Luckily, Aaron grabbed it and passed it to Robert, before taking the girl by the hand, walking off so fast she was almost running at his side. “Is that man your friend?”

“No,” Aaron told her. “And what did I tell you about talking to strangers?”

“Emma says everyone’s a stranger before you know them.”

“Yeah, well, Emma’s a little muppet,” Aaron said, not even throwing one glance back at Robert, leaving him standing there gobsmacked.

**~**

Rebecca was waiting for him when he got back, sitting on the low wall in front of the house, legs elegantly crossed, her fur jacket and summer hat making the village look like nothing more than a backdrop for a photoshoot advertising expensive fashion. Rebecca was good at that, sparkling so hard she made everything around her look dull. The only problem with looking at something so bright was that after a while it gave you a headache.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” Rebecca said with an easy shrug, as if she hadn't been witness to or a part of his life falling apart. She slipped off the wall, taking a slow tentative step towards him.

“Well, you've seen me, so do one.”

That crinkled the light and easy facade, Rebecca looking at him in confusion part tinged with offense. “Don't be like that.”

Robert let out a bitter laugh. “How am I supposed to be?”

Looking just a touch flabbergasted she said, “In case you've forgotten, Robert, you’re the one who wanted to sleep with me. This victim routine you're doing is pretty low even for you.”

“Right. _I_ wanted to sleep with you. You were just an unwilling participant,” Robert said. “As I remember it, it didn’t take much to persuade you even while I was three sheets to the wind.”

“You’re pathetic,” she said with a shake of her head.

“No, you know what's pathetic, Becs, is you sniffing around after I'm done with you. Get it through your head, I don’t want you.”

“And what about me, Robert? Did you want me? In fact, did you actually love me or was it always about the money?”

Robert let out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. Steadying himself he shifted around towards the voice to see Chrissie behind him, looking immaculate as ever.

“Well?” she said. “Did you?”

**~**

Having attracted enough attention on the street, Robert went indoors, leaving the door open for the White sisters. If he had found the house small when he arrived, it was nothing in comparison to how Chrissie and Rebecca looked standing there in wearing clothes and accessories that probably cost more than all the furnishings put together.

“Cosy,” Chrissie said dismissively. He felt a rush of anger at her dismissing Sarah's home, but deep down he knew Chrissie's dismissal was of him, not the house.

He gave her a hard look. “I thought we were done.”

“Yes, well, it's hard being done when you're ignoring my solicitor's calls and emails.”

She reached into her handbag, pulling out a white A4 envelope. She didn't hand it to him, placing it on the coffee table and taking a seat in the nearby armchair. Rebecca perched herself on the arm. They looked ridiculously out of place. Robert made his way to the table, putting aside his crutches to sit down on the couch and open the envelope pulling out the document under Chrissie and Rebecca’s close scrutiny.

“I think you'll find it generous,” Chrissie said, sounding tired. “Considering-”

“I have no job, home or reputation?” Robert said, still eyeing the offer, which in all honesty _was_ generous.

Chrissie snorted. “Self-inflicted wounds.”

Robert looked at her. “You told everyone we split up because I was cheating on you with a bloke. Did you read any of the articles? What people were saying online? You let people turn it into something sordid, shameful. I couldn’t walk down the street without someone shoving a camera in my face and asking questions.”

“Robert Sugden not wanting attention, that’s a first,” Rebecca snorted.

“And you made sure I got it,” Robert said. Rebecca evaded his look, looking down at her hands instead. “I know you had something to do with Connor selling his story. Probably got him the right price. He’s too much of a wimp to have done this all on his own. Daddy help out, did he?”

“Well what did you expect?” Chrissie yelled, up on her feet. “You cheated on me! With my sister!”

Robert was up too, teetering as he told her, “But you didn’t throw her under the bus, did you? It’s alright, I get it, sisters before misters, eh? No, it’s admirable. Doesn’t mean I have to give either of you the time of day though. Now, if you’re done, I’m a bit busy. Go on, get lost.”

Chrissie had that look about her, a tight expression hinting at a battle between patience and anger. She nodded to the papers on the coffee table. “And the offer?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“You’re not getting another penny,” Chrissie said. “Frankly this is more than you deserve.”

“I said...I’ll think about it,” Robert said. He tipped his head towards the hallway. “You know where the door is.”

Chrissie gave him a look, meant to be hard and still angry, but there was something sad and wounded in her eyes. Robert realised he saw too a reflection of the man he was fed up of being. Chrissie’s lips rolled into her mouth momentarily, gaze dropping as she turned to go wordlessly. She gave him a brief look at the door and out of all their partings, this seemed the most final. He wanted to mend things, if for a moment, tell her that he’d have his solicitor call tomorrow. But that impulse was crushed immediately by a voice that told him to be a man, not a weakling, and she was gone.

Rebecca followed her sister out whilst Robert stood there staring at the door. It seemed his ties to his old life were snapping one by one, and soon he’d be completely adrift. But then his gaze shifted to Chrissie’s offer, lying on the table in black and white. Well, he’d be adrift, but he’d have a sizeable dingy to get him to shore.

The door creaked and Rebecca walked back in, catching him in her ever wide-eyed look. She nodded to her hat which lay on the end of the sofa. “I...forgot this.”

She picked it up, far too slowly, something on her mind, and when she made her way back to the door it was as if her feet were weighted down. She finally stopped right by the door, shaking her head and aiming a scowl at him.

“Did you mean it? About not wanting me.” Robert nodded. It was the truth. Rebecca was the past, a past he was done with. Her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “Because you’re gay now?”

“ _Bisexual_ ,” Robert said with a firm nod. “You really need to get your head around that.”

She shook her head in question. He wasn’t surprised. She’d never bought it. Neither had Lawrence, calling Robert a sheep in wolf’s clothing as his and Chrissie’s wedding day got closer and closer. Chrissie, she’d bought it only as long as she could keep her doubts at bay, and when she couldn't it was the beginning of their ending.

Rebecca looked slighted, biting at her bottom lip. With a smile that didn’t fit the chaotic look in her eyes, she said, “So...you did use me.”

He thought about it. One last chance to hurt a White. He could be the bigger person. But he wasn't. “Pretty much.”

She let out a laugh, the hurt bright in her eyes, enough for her to finally stop pinning her hopes on someone like him. The slap caught him off guard. That he hadn’t expected. Wiping away an errant tear, she told him, “Have a nice life.”

Robert watched her go before grimacing around the stinging across his cheek and jaw. The front door slammed shut and moments later he could see the shadow of a four-by-four driving past the window. That was it then. He and the Whites were done with. Now all he needed was a new home and a new career. Looking at the papers sitting on the coffee table, neither seemed like such a tall order.

**~**

“Uh...why does the house smell cakey?” Vic asked as soon as she walked in.

Robert looked up from where he lay on the sofa, both feet on the table, cushion on his lap, and remote control on the cushion. Sarah appeared at Vic’s side, a delighted little smile spreading across her face.

“In there,” Robert said, pointing a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. Vic gave him a suspicious look before heading for the kitchen. Robert looked at Sarah. “You okay?”

Sarah sat down on the arm of unoccupied armchair. He thought about how she never seemed tired, how she just kept going on and on and he’d ignored the lines on her face, somehow keeping in his mind an image of her as young and energetic. She’d aged, and he hadn’t even be there for her.

“I’m fine,” she said, as she was bound to say. “You?”

Chrissie and Rebecca’s visit had left a bad taste in his mouth, but he nodded. “Yeah me too.”

“Robert, you did not,” Vic said with a big grin as she walked into the living room holding a cake tin. She tilted it so Sarah could see the small lemon drizzle cupcakes with sprinkles.

Sarah tilted her head, looking at the tin, and her eyes took on a slight shine. She looked at Robert and said, “Lemon drizzle cake. My favourite.”

“And that there’s nothing better than lemon drizzle cake in almost bite-sized pieces,” Robert said with a nod.

Sarah moved to sit down next to him, opening her arms. “Come here.”

Robert hugged her tightly, murmuring, “I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”

“You don’t have to be. You know I love you, don’t you?” Sarah said, pulling back and cupping his cheek. He nodded, heart feeling fit to burst. Luckily, she looked away to watch Vic placing the tin on the table and taking a few photographs. Looking back at Robert, she smiled and said, “How about some tea and cake then?”

“It’s almost midnight,” Robert said, turning his nose up at the idea.

“Oh more for us then. I’m putting the kettle on,” Vic said, walking off with tin and cake.

Sarah eyed Vic for a moment, waiting for the sound of the kettle heating up. Taking Robert’s hand she said, “I understand you had visitors.”

“Nothing stays a secret around here for long, does it?” Robert said.

“No, especially when you’re arguing with someone on the street,” Sarah said, pulling a face.

Robert nodded. “Right. Yeah, Chrissie and Rebecca dropped by with the divorce settlement papers. With a side of incrimination, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Sarah said. “And...has anything been settled?”

“I think so,” Robert said. “It won’t make up for the way my reputation’s been wrecked, but financially? Yeah, it’s a good offer. Means I don’t have to rush off anywhere until I’ve had a nice really long think about what it is I want to do next.”

Sarah had a smile on her face as she nodded. “So I suppose I’ll I have to put up with you moping around here for a bit longer, will I?”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Robert asked, already smiling.

“Oh, I mind terribly. Can’t you see?” Her grin was bright as she wrapped him up in a tight hug.

**~**

Robert’s phone was ringing again, and though he’d decided to pick it up soon enough, now was not the right time at all, because he was heading into the Woolpack, crutch in one hand, and a cake tin in the other. The pub was empty when he got inside, Chas busy getting organised behind the bar until she saw him.

Stopping to give him pointed and frosty look, she said, “We’re not open yet.”

“I know. Actually, I was hoping to catch, Aaron,” Robert said.

Chas nodded, a tight smile on her face. “Right. Here’s the thing. My son has been walking around with a face like a wet weekend, and I have a feeling it has something to do with you, so I’m not sure I want to let you see him right now.”

“Did Aaron say something?” Robert asked with a frown.

She frowned back. “Well...no. But I have my sources.”

“Look, Chas, I get where you’re coming from, but I really need to talk to him. Please.”

Chas sagged, looking annoyed at herself. “Go on. Go through. He’ll be down in a bit.”

Robert nodded, gratefully. “Thanks.”

“Do not make me regret it,” she said, jabbing a finger in his direction as he walked around the bar and through the door.

The kitchen-come-living room wasn’t empty, which made him stop in his tracks for a second. As he walked around the small sofa he saw Chocolate Buttons Girl sitting there in a sprawl watching Saturday morning television in her purple pyjamas, and slightly more purple dressing gown and slippers.

“Hi,” Robert said slowly. She blinked up at him before her eyes went a little wide and her mouth opened to say something objectionable. Robert held a hand up, “It’s okay. Chas sent me through. I’m here to see Aaron.”

“Why?” she asked with a little angry scowl.

“Um...well, that’s not any of your business is it? What are you, like five?” Robert asked.

“Eight!” she said, looking offended.

Ignoring her baby rage, Robert sat down at the kitchen table, leaning in her direction and asking, “So...you and Aaron? You’re his…?”

“He’s my dad,” she said, in a way that made Robert hear a silent ‘so there’. Robert laughed, not believing her for a second. She crossed her arms and sat back, incredibly smug. “If you want to be his boyfriend, you’re going to have to be nice to me.”

“That sounds like blackmail,” Robert said. “You can get locked up for that sort of thing.”

Chocolate Buttons Girl wasn’t even fazed. “Prove it.”

Robert laughed. “Right little charmer, aren’t you?”

“ _Do_ you want to be his boyfriend?” she asked, ignoring his comment entirely.

“Yeah. Might do. Why?” Robert asked. She shrugged. “No no, go on. You started this.”

“Well, he’s not very happy with you,” she said, throwing him a very familiar look of disdain.

“Why? What did he say?” Robert asked.

“Well, I heard Adam asking him if he was going to go on a date with ya and he was like, _sorry didn’t know I have to share my calendar about every second of my day_ ,” she said, making a mardy little face as she did an impression of Aaron. “When he makes that face it means he’s angry with a boy.”

Robert was biting back a laugh, watching as Aaron stepped into the room and witnessed the whole thing. Robert gave Chocolate Buttons Girl a tip of the head, his eyes darting in Aaron’s direction. She sat up with a little gasp, covering her grinning mouth with her hand as she looked at Aaron.

“That supposed to be me, is it?” Aaron asked her. “Word of advice. Stay in school, yeah?”

Robert stood up. “Wasn’t that bad.”

Aaron gave him a careful look, before telling Chocolate Buttons Girl, “You wanna give us a couple of minutes?”

She looked incredibly put upon. “I’m watching the telly!”

Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a slow breath. Robert grinned, picking up his cake tin from the table. He handed it to Chocolate Buttons Girl and said, “Here. Why don’t you give these a try and let me know what you think, eh? Moon biscuits, complete with moon dust.”

“Wow.” Chocolate Buttons Girl opened the tin, looking delighted. Aaron was watching her, peeking at the white-iced biscuits, tension leaving his body.

“What do you say? Give me and Aaron five minutes?” Robert asked.

She hopped off the sofa, running off and calling out, “You can have ten!”

Aaron watched her thumping up the stairs, before slowly closing the door and looking at Robert. “Moon biscuits? Impressed one person I suppose.”

“Yeah, looks it. She’s cute by the way. A little mardy like you, feisty like your mum. A bit annoying like most little sisters.”

Aaron snorted, a soft smile on his face. “Sums up Grace.”

They fell into silence, barely a metre of space between them feeling like a chasm. Robert inched just a little forward. “I missed ya.”

Aaron nodded. “Saw you yesterday.”

“I know. Missed you all the same.” Aaron just watched him, quiet and closed off. “I know you were upset about Rebecca-”

Aaron snorted, looking away. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“ _But..._ her and Chrissie only turned up to talk about the divorce settlement because I’d been avoiding their calls. That’s all,” Robert said. “And I’m not flattering myself because that’s quite the impressive jealous streak you’ve got.”

Aaron threw him a glare. “Yeah well, Rebecca made it sound like you were waiting for her with open arms, which...you know, _fine_. Just...I don’t want to be messed around.”

“I wouldn’t. I _won’t_ ,” Robert said. “Look, me and the White family, we’re done. Whatever Rebecca made you think, that’s just her. She knows I how I feel about her. She knows I’m not interested. Aaron...I really like ya and...I know you feel the same.”

Aaron scowled, shaking his head, opening his mouth to object. But then his gaze turned inwards and his refusal dissipated before it could even be aired. He frowned at Robert, sounding unsure when he said, “It’s just...moving a bit fast. Barely know you and I’m getting annoyed at random women.”

Robert closed the gap between them, leaving mere inches of space. “So we’ll take it slow. I’m not going anywhere, not for a while. Maybe we can see where this goes. Aaron I...I really want ya.”

Aaron nodded, swallowing. “Yeah. Me too.”

That was all the invitation Robert needed, leaning in and taking Aaron’s face in his hands and pressing a kiss to his startled mouth. Not that Aaron didn’t immediately get with the program, his hands smoothing up Robert’s arms as his fingers curled into the fabric of Robert’s jacket, their first kiss drifting into a second, and then a third, before Robert pulled back with a smile that seemed to reach all the way into his chest, Aaron smiling back at him, before Robert pulled Aaron tight against himself, closing his eyes with a thankful sigh.

**~**

Robert thought the small reunion would end there, to be continued until another time, but Aaron had pulled back, looking thoughtful, and then he’d taken Robert’s hand, leading him out of the kitchen, carefully looking back to make sure Robert and his crutch were staying in sync. At the top of the stairs, he steadied Robert, sweetly kissing him before opening his bedroom door.

“Grace! TV’s free!” Aaron called out before stepping into his room and shutting the door and turning the key in the lock with a thrillingly decisive twist.

There were a loud thumping of steps outside, Grace running back down the stairs so fast it had both Aaron and Robert grinning. But then Aaron was guiding Robert backwards until he landed on the bed, his eyes on Aaron stripping off his t-shirt to reveal pale and pinked skin. Tossing the t-shirt aside he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, taking them off, his gaze locked with Robert’s the whole time, before he knee-walked onto the bed, all the way over Robert’s legs.

Robert sat up, receiving a kiss for his effort. He pulled away at the gentle push of hands against his chest. Leaning back on his hands, he watched with an amused smile as Aaron aggressively pulled down Robert’s trackies, making them both laugh. He was careful when it came to Robert’s cast, crawling back up his body quick to rid him of his body warmer, and then the long-sleeved top they spent the next minute struggling to get Robert out of, again laughing like a pair of idiots.

Then, finally, _then_ Robert had a lapful of Aaron, his mouth caught in a heated kiss. Robert’s fingers curled and pressed at Aaron’s hips, pulling him close whenever he seemed to sway away. Not that he went far, coaxing kisses from Robert, tasting him and licking into his mouth at a slow and syrupy speed. Robert let his hands smooth down from Aaron’s hips, slipping under his blue boxers. He moaned into a kiss at the feel of Aaron’s arse in his hands, his palms curving around firm muscle, kneading and clutching.

Aaron jolted against Robert, the hardness of his cock evident through the dampening fabric of his boxers. Robert’s own black briefs were feeling tighter and tighter by the second, the fabric adding a maddening friction each time their bulges pressed against each other. Aaron nuzzled his face against Roberts, a soft butting of heads, before he latched onto Robert’s bottom lip until Robert opened his mouth for a deeper kiss. Aaron had one arm hooked around Robert’s shoulders, his other hand snaking between their bodies, cupping and palming at Robert’s bulge.

“Ah, _Jesus,”_ Robert groaned, his head falling back, Aaron’s mouth chasing his lips, panting open mouthed against them. Robert tipped his head forward, against Aaron’s, muttering against his mouth, “Aaron.”

Aaron returned a wordless nod, his hand slipping inside Robert’s boxers, closing warm and firm around his dick. Robert’s hips thrust up into the hold involuntarily, wanting more of that tightness around him. At the same time the grip of Robert’s hands tightened on Aaron’s arse, digging into flesh, making Aaron shudder, a pebble of a sound dropping from his mouth.

Aaron’s movements became more frantic, freeing Robert’s erection from his briefs, and in perfect synchronicity, Robert’s hands had moved to shove Aaron’s boxers down from his hips and over the curve of his arse. It was Aaron who reached down to free himself from his boxers, pulling his cock out and giving it a few strokes, eyes closed and bottom lip caught between his teeth. Robert could have come right there, it was just pure luck he didn’t.

Aaron let out a few unsteady breaths, locking gazes with Robert, his eyes dark with desire. Between their bodies, Aaron’s hand moved to blindly seek out Robert’s hand on Aaron’s hip, pulling at it, guiding it between their bodies, until Robert got with the plan, using his other hand to pull Aaron even closer, locking an arm around his waist before taking both their cocks into his grasp.

Aaron gasped hotly against Robert’s face, keeping one arm around his shoulders, his other hand climbing up and into Robert’s hair, fingers threading through short strands. He was rocking his hips in rhythm to Robert’s stroking, and Robert found his own body moving fractionally against Aaron. Eyes closing, his mouth blindly sought out Aaron’s lips, his teeth scraping across skin where they landed: the jut of his chin, the line of his jaw, over the tautly strung tendons in his neck. Aaron’s hand tugged his head by the hair before he locked his mouth onto Robert’s, their tongues beating slow against each other.

Robert moved his fist harder, pre-come having dribbled and drenched it, having created enough slick for the slip and slide of his palm around hard and heated skin. He could feel his orgasm about to hit, speeding up his hand, chasing release, and at the same time Aaron’s hips seemed to lose their rhythm, moving with a frantic stuttering, trying to fuck into Robert’s hand. They were both close, panting loudly, springs creaking under them from the bounce of the mattress. Robert pulled back a fraction, looking at Aaron’s face, watching his jaw tense, his eyes squeeze shut, and a grimace that looked like pain, but was pleasure.

Aaron’s body became taut like the string of a bow and he came with a jarring thrust of his hips, the muscles of his body tightening and flexing in his thighs and his shining stomach, come shooting across Robert’s belly and up on his chest. The sight of it pushed Robert over the edge, and he came with a tight silent gasp, adding to the mess on his body, and somehow avoiding Aaron. Leaning into Aaron, he gave both of them a few more strokes, coaxed out the tremors and trickles of pleasure, until Aaron made a noise of protest, pulling Robert’s hand away with a quiet, “ _Rob._ ”

They sat there for a while, Robert’s sticky and stained hand held in Aaron’s, fingers laced together, Aaron’s arm still around Robert’s shoulder, having progressed to more around his neck, and Robert’s arm curled around Aaron’s back, both of them wound around each other, their bodies rocking slight and slow for no discernible reason, ticking back and forth like a metronome, Robert’s face hidden in Aaron’s shoulder, Aaron’s chin hooked over Robert’s.

Robert had words in his mouth, itching to get out, stinging his kiss-swollen lips. Terrible terrible too early confessions, trying to pry their way out, having somehow escaped the confines of Robert’s heart. _Don’t_ , he told himself, _it’s too soon._ So he pulled back and found Aaron’s mouth, kissing him sweet and slow, stealing a second kiss even as Aaron pulled back to catch his breath. It didn’t seem he needed to much breath, because he was just as enthusiastic, lips parting greedily.

Aaron was grinning when he pulled away, his gaze dropping down between them. He pulled a face, all scrunched and teeth. “Better clean up.”

“I’m not going out there like this,” Robert said, nodding towards the door. In this state, the bathroom seemed miles away.

“I’ll just have to keep you here in my room then, won’t I,” Aaron said, the muscles of his thighs flexing pleasantly against Robert’s thighs.

“Oh yeah? Doesn’t sound so bad. I can see the perks.” Robert lifted his hand and brought it down with a smack on Aaron’s arse cheek, grabbing a handful and pulling him close. Aaron grinned at him, leaning in until Robert had no choice but to topple back onto the bed. Robert shrugged up at Aaron. “You know, I mean what with there being a boozer downstairs.”

“Is that right?” Aaron asked, dipping his head for a soft delicate kiss that held none of the urgency and need of their previous ones. Robert answered his question with a quiet hum against Aaron’s mouth, tightening his arms around Aaron, the slick between their bodies now a bit more noticeable and annoying. Aaron pulled back, face scrunched up. “Definitely need to clean up.”

Robert stayed where he was, watching Aaron get up from the bed, looking beautifully spent and flushed. He picked up a bath towel that seemed discarded from earlier, giving it a little sniff before he tossed it in Robert’s direction. Robert sat up, wiping himself down as thoroughly as possible, his eyes following Aaron around the room as he made use of an old T-shirt and a box of tissues. T-shirt in the hamper and balled up tissues in the bin, Aaron came back to bed, landing with a little bounce and stretching out next to Robert. Robert balled up the towel, dropping it by the side of the bed before lying back, mirroring Aaron and propping himself up on an elbow, their bodies tilted towards each other. Robert took Aaron’s free hand in his, watching his thumb stroking knuckles.

“Pity we can’t sack the day off and just stay here,” he murmured.

Aaron smiled, his head tilting just a little, an earnest look in his eyes. “That would be nice, but Paddy’s got a list of jobs for me as long as my arm.”

“It’s okay, another time,” Robert promised with a grin.

Aaron nodded, smiling, before turning his nose up a little and saying, “Maybe not here though. Me mum and Charity don’t really understand the concept of privacy.”

“Yeah, and my old room is so much better,” Robert said with a laugh.

“No, just surrounded by a little less crazy,” Aaron corrected him, moving little closer, his gaze flitting to Robert’s mouth.

Robert leaned in, giving Aaron a little kiss and pulling back, quietly asking him, “Come over tonight. You owe me. I baked you moon biscuits.”

“Yeah,” Aaron said with a laugh. “About those. Why?”

Robert flashed a pleased smile. “Well, how else do you get a fit werewolf to notice you?”

**~**

Aaron’s expression was a thing to behold as they walked into the kitchen to find Charity, Chas and Grace sitting at the kitchen table, each with a biscuit in hand. Aaron darted towards the table with a deep scowl on his face, picking up the tin.

“Oi. He made those for me!” Aaron complained as Robert stood back and grinned.

“I only had two,” Grace told him innocently.

“You didn’t, you little liar,” Charity balked.

“Don’t call her a liar,” Chas said, smacking Charity’s arm with the back of her hand. She then looked in Robert’s direction and smiled. “Moreish, aren’t they?”

“How many of these have you had?” Aaron said, looking at Grace. She blinked at him, her little mouth moving in consideration and then offering no number. Chas was now scowling at her too with suspicion. “Three.”

Aaron picked up the tin and snapped on the lid. He looked at the Dingle women around the table. “What is wrong with you?”

“I can’t wait to tell everyone I’ve had RJ Connolly’s biscuits,” Charity said with a grin and wink.

Aaron’s mouth curled in distaste and he swiftly turned away from the table. “I’ll walk you home, shall I?”

“He’s right chivalrous, our Aaron,” Charity called out as they left.

“Bye Dad!” Grace called out.

Aaron looked mortified, hurrying Robert out of the pub and into the blissfully cool air. Robert laughed, asking, “What’s all that about?”

Aaron rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Nothing. Don’t worry.”

“No, go on. I deserve to know. Those biscuits took ages.”

Aaron snorted, grinning at him. He waves a hand dismissively, biscuit tin held tightly in the other. “I had a date with this bloke once, and we’d decided to meet in the pub. I wasn’t really into him, so I told me mum to send Grace in half-way and pretend I was her dad. He was gone in five minutes.”

“Idiot,” Robert said with a laugh.

“Yeah, I know. I could have come with a better idea to get rid of him,” Aaron said with a grin.

“I meant him,” Robert said stopping in his tracks, turning over in his mind what it would take for him to not ever want to see Aaron again. Nothing came to mind. “I think he was an idiot.”

Aaron’s mouth clamped tight for a moment, and Robert saw the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, his nostrils flaring as he took in a breath and nodded. Smiling a small smile he said, “Smooth.”

“I try,” Robert said through a satisfied grin.

They walked on, Robert urging Aaron to open the tin and try at least one biscuit in his presence. Aaron looked at him with a little tempted smile and then shrugged, opening the tin and extracting a biscuit, biting into it with care. It was as he was chewing that his face went a little slack and he blinked at Robert with what was obvious surprise.

Robert laughed. “What?”

“It’s really good,” Aaron said.

“Well, I hope so. I’m screwed if they’re not. Cooking is pretty much my bread and butter,” Robert said, still laughing at the expression on Aaron’s face.

Aaron took another bite, closing his eyes with orgasmic bliss. “So good.”

“Give us one then,” Robert said, reaching for the tin.

Aaron twisted out of reach, complaining, “You can make more.”

“Oi,” Robert said, making a one-arm grab for Aaron’s waist and pulling at him, “greedy.”

“Aaron! Hiya!”

Robert turned towards the voice along with Aaron who went very still and then told Robert in a hushed whisper that the large bald man approaching them with a curious smile was, “ _Paddy_.”

“What?”

“My dad, my dad. Let go,” Aaron said elbowing Robert in the stomach. Robert let go, trying not to smile at the way Aaron wriggled out of his hold. Aaron jutted out his chin in greeting to his dad. “What you doin’?”

“Oh, uh, milk. We need milk,” Paddy said pointing in the direction of the pub.

“Right,” Aaron said with a frown. “Plenty when I left.”

“Well, you know what it’s like.”

“I really don’t.”

“RJ Connolly, eh?” Paddy said, ignoring the intensely annoyed scowl on Aaron’s face. He jabbed a finger in Robert’s direction, grinning. “Robert Sugden, a TV chef. That’d explain why Sarah’s feet haven’t touched the ground in a while. Dead proud of you she is. Can I ask ya-”

“Paddy-” Aaron said with clear warning in his eyes, looking about as threatening as a bobble hat with his biscuit tin in his hands.

“When that Sue chucked the dry spaghetti at her team, that’s got to have been scripted,” Paddy said, hands held up as though he had just asked Robert to confirm a physics equation that turned the universe inside out.

Robert shook his head. “Nope. She actually totally lost it. We had to leave out the worst of it.”

“No,” Paddy said, looking absolutely delighted. “Like what?”

“Oh my god,” Aaron muttered, hiding his face in his hand.

Robert shrugged, feigning reluctance as he added. “There may have been an incident involving an artichoke.”

Paddy laughed, a series of high-pitched giggles as his whole body straightened to accommodate them. Aaron was staring at Robert with a ‘what are you doing expression?’ on his flushed face. Filled with mirth. Paddy smacked Aaron on the arm with the back of his hand and pointed in Robert’s direction, Aaron’s mouth falling open in a silent ‘ _ow’_ as he stared at Paddy.

“What’s that then?” Paddy asked, pointing at the tin.

“Uh, biscuits. Do you want to try one?” Robert asked, nodding to the tin.

“Oh, I don’t mind if I do actually,” Paddy said, reaching for the tin, only for Aaron to pull it back with a beautifully mardy look. Paddy responded with a very determined look on his face, getting his hand on the tin and tugging until it was in his hands. He opened it, muttering, “You don’t even like biscuits.”

Aaron shot him a sulky look and then seemed to try and cover it with a nonchalant one, Robert watching him the whole time with a smile that had sunk into his lungs and his bones and... _love at first sight is not a thing_ , he told himself. But there was no denying that this feeling in his chest which was the colour of autumn leaves, as fresh as a September breeze, and as warm as the hues of the country dales, it had been spinning in his chest like a small tornado since the moment he saw Aaron, picking up dust, turning it into something solid. If not love, _something_ had happened at first sight, and that something beat hard and heavy when he looked at Aaron.

“Blimey these are good,” Paddy said, looking into the tin as he finished off a biscuit.

“Help yourself,” Robert said. “Plenty more where those came from.”

That giggle-laugh again, Paddy pointing at Robert _with_ a biscuit. Aaron sighed and said, “You not forgetting the milk?”

“Oh you know, milk’d go down nice with these,” Paddy said. Aaron threw a silent and dark look. Paddy straightened up. “So, it’s lucky I’m on my way to get some.”

Aaron and Paddy spent the next thirty seconds in some strange silent standoff, communicating purely through their eyes. Robert clenched his jaw to hold back the laugh. Paddy slowly handed back the biscuit tin.

“Right. Well. I’ll uh…” Paddy pointed to nowhere in particular as he looked at Robert. Robert offered a nod, clutching his crutch and re-steadying himself. Paddy pointed at the crutch, “Hope that wasn’t Sue.”

“Paddy!” Aaron looked mortified.

Paddy sobered in about half a second, already moving. “Yeah, in a bit of a hurry actually. I’ll uh, I’ll see both later.”

Robert watched him quick-walk away, changing direction when Aaron called out, “Where you buying that milk from?”

Paddy turned swiftly and continued, throwing them both a wave. Robert looked at Aaron with faux confusion. “You know, I could be wrong, but I think we were being checked up on.”

“Shut up,” Aaron grouched.

“What you being all mardy for?” Robert asked, poking Aaron in the side.

Aaron made a face. “Just, I hate it when they get like this. All protective and... _weird_.”

Robert observed Aaron, the quiet irritation, the uneasy tilt of his shoulders. People didn’t get protective and weird for no reason. Robert shrugged and told him, “They care about you.”

Aaron rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath. Robert wanted to pull him close and kiss him stupid, but his phone had started to ring again. He pulled his mobile from his pocket with a sigh, looking at the screen, and moving to put it right back into his pocket.

“Who is it?” Aaron asked, the question sounding simple enough, but the look in his eyes just a little off.

“It’s my agent,” Robert said, pocketing the phone, which continued ringing. “More bad news.”

“Well, just get it over with,” Aaron said. Robert sighed, the shrill sound of the phone not stopping. Then Aaron was reaching into his bodywarmer with a roll of his eyes. “Here.”

“What you doing?” Robert asked, watching Aaron answering the call. “Aaron!”

“Hiya. Yeah, he’s just popped out for a bit,” Aaron said. “You want to leave a message? I’ll get him to call you back. Right...right. Yeah...yeah, I’ll let him know. Thanks.”

Aaron pulled the phone away from his ear, looking at it for a moment before tentatively handing it back to Robert. Robert would have feared the worst, but he couldn’t imagine things getting any worse. “What? What did she say.”

Aaron smiled at him, though it was small and strange. “Um...yeah, your agent. She says you need to call her back because _Two Many Cooks_ wants you for the next season.”

Robert stared at him before breaking out into a huge grin. “What? You’re joking!”

“Nope,” Aaron said quietly. Again, that small smile, not quite reaching his eyes, despite him trying to force it wider. “She says they want you.”

Robert slung an arm around Aaron’s shoulders, pulling him close and laughing into his shoulder. Maybe things were finally beginning to look up.

“You still coming over tonight, yeah?” Robert asked him, pulling back just a little, close enough for a kiss. Aaron looked away to the side, looking reluctant. “I’ll fix you tea. Come around six, Mum and Vic’ll be gone.”

Aaron relented with a slow nod and Robert leaned in for a kiss, just a light press of lips against lips. When they pulled apart, Aaron licked his bottom lip, eyes dark with private thoughts. “I better get back.”

Robert let go of him with reluctance, telling himself that the evening would come around before he could even think of it. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Aaron’s mouth twitched up into a slightly less burdened smile as he nodded and backed away before turning around and heading off back to the pub, Robert watching him the whole time.

**~**

His agent had quite a few choice words to say when Robert called her back, including, ‘And check your fucking emails.’ He did check his fucking emails, and other than the nonsense that had been piling up in those first few weeks, there were some glimmers of hope too. It seemed not everyone was aboard the crucify RJ Connolly train. He answered some emails, made some calls, and when the familiar creeping of worry seemed to start hovering around him again, he went out for a coffee. He ended up in the graveyard, standing over his brother and father’s graves, having placed a single rose on the grave of Pat Sugden already.

“Me again,” he said quietly. He took a deep breath, looked around him, taking in the quiet and serenity. “Thinking of sticking around for a bit. So...you might see even more of me.”

He paused for a moment, a part of him almost expecting to hear something in return. He realised he was expecting his dad’s voice. He was expecting an amused chuckle. He swallowed hard around the tightness in his throat, his eyes stinging with tears, teeth biting down on the inside of his mouth. After a while, he gave up, feeling his facade crumble.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I never meant it. If I could choose...I’d have you back. Because I know everything would be better with you both around. I _know_.”

“Robert.” He turned to his mum standing there, tears in her eyes. She gave him a sad smile, shaking her head. She seemed to want to say something, but then just held out her arms and said, “Come here.”

Robert went to her, falling into her embrace as he had the first day he arrived back. He let out a quiet sob, feeling her hand stroking his back.

“Oh love,” she said with a sigh. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

They headed back to the house, Robert quiet, Sarah giving him careful worried glances. But she needn’t have. When she said it would be alright, he believed her as he always had.

She made him tea as he sat on the sofa, his mind ping-ponging from place to place: London to Emmerdale, Chrissie to Aaron, from the past to the present. The sound of Sarah moving around in the kitchen was a comfort. He couldn’t imagine not having her. What if that night he had lost her too? His heart clenched at that thought, and tears welled up in his eyes. He swatted them away angrily just as she sat down, putting the tea in front of him.

She took his hand in hers, giving him a worried look. “You okay?”

“Just hit me is all,” Robert said, vacantly staring ahead. “They’re gone for good. In London, they were just...far away like everyone else.”

He swallowed hard, a hot tear escaping down his cheek. He wiped the tear-track away with the palm of his hand. Sarah squeezing his fingers in hers. “You said you were sorry. You didn’t mean it.”

“Mum-” he said desperately. He couldn’t tell her. She’d hate him for it. How could she not?

“Sweetheart,” she said, stopping him. “You don’t need to tell me anything. But...people say things they don’t mean. It happens. Your dad would never have loved you any less. Please...whatever it is, don’t let it keep hurting you like this.”

Robert shook his head, staring into nothingness, into himself. “Sometimes, I just have this feeling that things were meant to be different, and maybe it’s my fault they’re not.”

“You pulled me out of a burning barn and saved my life,” Sarah said, her voice hoarse. Smiling a watery smile she said, “That could have been very different. Couldn’t it?”

He nodded at her, unable to imagine a life without her. She hugged him and he let her hold him until some of the sadness passed and it didn’t feel so hard to breathe.

**~**

Robert was feeling a strange lightness taking over him. He felt less heavy on his crutches, not to mention less heavy in his heart. He spent the afternoon replying to emails that were worth a reply, and following up with a few phone calls, particularly his agent. He even dared to go online and check what level of mud his name was. It seemed he was becoming an afterthought, much more salacious storylines popping up courtesy of dancing stars bringing disrepute to the winter time family TV schedule. Poor sods, Robert thought.

Sarah left on errands and Vic momentarily appeared with a commentary that covered every inch of the village as she walked from room to room, only stopping when the aroma of the pasta sauce Robert was stirring began to make itself known. She walked into the kitchen with a wide-eyed happy look on her face, leaning around him to sniff at the saucepan he was stirring.

“First baking, now this,” she said with a cheeky smile. “What’s going on?”

He shrugged. “Just feel like cooking.”

Her look turned soft and he was touched that even though Vic had the sensitivity of a sledgehammer when it came to avoiding touchy subjects, she said nothing at all about his weeks of moping where the last thing he had cared about was kitchens and cooking.

“Here. Try some, let me know what you think,” Robert said, reaching for a small spoon and filling half of it with sauce. She smiled, blowing on the sauce before taking a taste, nodding approvingly with a happy ‘mmm’ sound. “Good?”

“Goooood,” she said. Grinning at him she said, “Aaron coming over later is he?”

Robert smirked. “Might be.”

“Hmmm. Lucky him, eh? Got a top chef cooking for him,” she said, before pulling a face and adding, “got a mate who drops everything every time he throws a wobbly.”

Robert turned from the stove, not liking the sound of that at all. “What’s he throwing a wobbly about?”

Vic looked instantly regretful, as she should have, on account of that big gob. “I...I shouldn’t say.”

“Well, you _have_ said, so out with the rest of it,” Robert said, mildly annoyed.

Her shoulders sagged as she let out a heavy sigh. “Well, he likes ya, Robert. I mean, like, _really seriously_ likes ya. Only, you could be gone in a few months down the line and...well, he’d rather you broke his heart now than later. You staying a bit longer...it’s not the same as you staying is it? I mean, me and Mum, it’s different. But you can’t have someone falling for you only for you to up and leave.”

“What?” Robert murmured.

Vic stood there with her mouth opening and closing soundlessly for a moment before she said. “Nothing. It was just...it was an example.”

“He’s falling for me?” Robert asked.

Vic held up her hands, opened her mouth to make an excuse and then joined her hands and said, “Please don’t tell Adam I told you. It was an accident. I shouldn’t have told you that, Rob.”

Robert turned to look at the sauce bubbling in its pot. He was waiting for something, a heaviness, a burden that would descend and fall square across his shoulders. He was waiting for his mind make him feel as if he was being dragged by the Earth’s pull to be tied to the ground. He was waiting to feel trapped, for muscles to clench and tighten as if he would have to flee.

“Rob?” He looked at her, his gaze not quite able to settle on Vic. She had a worried look on her face. “Are you freaking out?”

He shook his head, frowning. “No.”

Her brow furrowed into a little dark point. “Why not?”

Quite calmly, he told her, “Because I think I might be too.”

**~**

Aaron arrived looking even better than usual. He’d gotten a haircut, the sides shaved close to the skull, the top looking a little more buoyant than usual. Robert wanted to pounce on him the second he walked through the door. Instead, they greeted each other with a strange kiss that missed the mark, Robert catching the corner of Aaron’s mouth, Aaron’s body unresponsive against Robert’s. The tension eased a little when they both had a bottle of beer each, both of them sat on the sofa together, Robert watching Aaron from where he sat with his back turned into the corner, Aaron leaning forward and peeling the label on the bottle with his thumb nail.

“So, you finish off those biscuits then?” Robert asked quietly.

Aaron snorted, the corner of his mouth quirking slightly up. “Chance’d be a fine thing with those lot around.”

“S’okay. I’ll just make you more. A secret stash,” Robert told him softly. Aaron nodded, the gesture uncomfortable the way his shoulders were so hunched and tense looking. Robert put his beer bottle on the table and scooted a little closer, quietly asking, “Are you angry with me?”

Aaron’s expression went from defensive to soft immediately. He shook his head, looking at Robert with a troubled gaze. “No.”

“Then talk to me,” Robert whispered.

“You’re going to go back to London, Robert,” Aaron said with a shrug, looking devastated. “That’s how this is going to end. And...I thought maybe...maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, we could still see how things go, have fun-”

“But?”

Aaron swallowed, his gaze flitting to Robert’s mouth. “I don’t think I can do that with you.”

Robert smiled, reaching out to place his hand on Aaron’s back, smoothing it across tense planes. “Maybe I don’t want to do that either. Maybe...maybe I want to stay. For good.”

Aaron was staring at Robert, bright-eyed and surprised. “What about the TV stuff?”

Robert shrugged. “I don’t need to be in London full-time for that. I’ve been in touch with a few people this afternoon too, following some other work leads. One of them’s been chasing me for ages to do some consulting - don’t need to be based in London for that. I signed off on the settlement Chrissie offered, so I’ll have more than enough money to keep me going for a while, or you know, maybe even think about opening my own business closer to home. What I’m saying is...I have absolutely no reason to go back to London. But I have a lot of reasons to stay. You’re...you’re definitely one of them.”

Aaron didn’t say anything, but the small smile on his face shook and made his eyes twinkle. Dinner didn’t get eaten, quite predictably. One kiss had lead to another and before soon they were stretched out on the too small sofa, tied up in a tight embrace of wandering hands and greedy lips.

Aaron pulled back, looking down at Robert with a smile. “Should we take this upstairs?”

The answer was fairly obvious.

**~**

“It’s him,” someone whispered. “Seriously, I’m not joking. Look.”

Robert blinked, slowly waking up. Outside the train window, everything was shrouded in dark. He curled up a little further towards the window, wanting to sleep as much as possible through the train journey. No matter how he shifted though, he was too awake to fall asleep again.

“RJ Connolly. The mean chef.” Oh god, _the mean chef?_ Robert grimaced. “The one who told that bloke that the inside of a shoe probably tasted better than his dish.”

Fair enough, that had been a little mean.

“Mate, will you just shut up and let me get some shut eye?”

 _Yeah mate_ , Robert thought.

“Here, look at this,” Robert’s biggest fan said. Blessed silence followed for a moment, and then an almost barely audible whisper. “...look… his boyfriend…”

Robert sighed, feeling that familiar wave of warmth spreading from inside out, until there was a smile on his face. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, just to glance at the wallpaper on the screen for a second. It was a picture of him and Aaron, squashed up against each other, all suited up for Adam and Vic’s wedding. They were both grinning wide, Aaron laughing at something. Robert smiled at the picture before putting the phone back and closed his eyes, not opening them again until it was time to take the train to Hotten.

**~**

It was way past midnight when he got home, the house dark but for the small appliance lights in the kitchen. He kicked off his shoes by the door and left his rucksack and wheelie case by the stairs, slowly making his way up. He didn’t mess around in the bathroom, relieving himself, brushing his teeth. In the bedroom, he undressed quick and quiet and then finally slipped into bed, inching towards Aaron who awoke as soon Robert’s arms wrapped around him.

Aaron jerked awake with a little gasp, voice sounding rusty as he murmured, “Rob.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” Robert said, spooning up behind Aaron. “Go back to sleep.”

Aaron made a noise of protest and wriggled out of Robert’s hold in order to turn over so they were face to face. Even better, Robert thought, grinning as Aaron wormed his way closer and back into Robert’s arms, but this time nestling his face against Robert’s chest with a contented sigh.

“Missed ya,” Aaron murmured, sounding as if he was drifting back to sleep already.

“Missed ya right back,” Robert said, sighing and closing his eyes.

When Robert had first seen Aaron, his mind hadn’t really looked beyond the word _fit_. He couldn’t be blamed of course, because Aaron was definitely _that._ But here, in his arms, Robert realised he had ended up with so much more. When people talked about love, _this_ was the place they were talking about, _this_ feeling in the middle of his chest.

He’d fallen quick and he’d fallen hard, but it was the kind of fall that came without broken bones or bruises. All it required was gambling with your heart. Though, it seemed Robert’s gamble had paid off, because here he was in the warmth of this bed, in a soft embrace, contemplating wedding proposals under a full moon to a fit werewolf.

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to [@robronsnuggles](https://robronsnuggles.tumblr.com/) for [this lovely artwork](https://robronsnuggles.tumblr.com/post/189440321946/swings-and-roundabouts-by-dvswraatins-as-life).


End file.
